


The eye of life, and the rising moons

by User435



Series: Ascension of the moon [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Completed, Consensual, F/M, Force-sensitve kinda main character, LMAO, Let's hope I keep up with this lmao, Massages, No Pregnancy, Oral, Original species/race, Overstimulation, Possessive Sex, Ratings may change, Set around original trilogy, Sexual Frustration, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, baths, blatent abuse of pet names, breeding kink maybe, cumeating???also?, definite breeding kink, female receiving, maybe? - Freeform, old man syndrome, size kink maybe, soft?boba, to relationship, voyerism?maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 54,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/User435/pseuds/User435
Summary: One of the last surviving practitioner of her kind, the young Jundland witch has lived a charmed life, managing to evade the power plays of the Empire and the Hutts, but it becomes increasingly difficult, and she finds her accustomed life slipping from her grasp.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Ascension of the moon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192286
Comments: 24
Kudos: 44





	1. The Eye of Life sees through your deceit

**Author's Note:**

> You know the Dathomir Nightsisters, who weild a dark-side of the force kind of Magick? Yeah, I wanted to do a light-side version to them, cause you know this galaxy always has "balance", the lore will be revealed in time.  
> The other font in writing is used when a language other than basic, or something written is being conveyed, you can pick it up from the context but if there's any difficulty let me know. :)  
> This is set before, during and after the original trilogy- might expand into the Mandalorian timeline, we'll see.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra 'Sana' Lithé finds herself searching the sands of Tatooine for something more, but gets more than she bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the Dathomir Nightsisters, who weild a dark-side of the force kind of Magick? Yeah, I wanted to do a light-side version to them, cause you know this galaxy always has "balance", the lore will be revealed in time.  
> The other font in writing is used when a language other than basic, or something written is being conveyed, you can pick it up from the context but if there's any difficulty let me know. :)  
> This is set before, during and after the original trilogy- might expand into the Mandalorian timeline, we'll see.  
> See notes at the end of the chapter for names and pronunciations

The gritty wind of the Jundland wastes whipped around Sana's head as she stomped through the sand. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other, careful not to let her feet sink too far and make her lose her balance. She hated how the sands of Tatooine stole away any sort of elegance or dexterity that she had possessed, after many years of creeping through forest floors, searching. 

  
A Bantha's lull snapped her out of her self-centred thoughts, a small caravan of Sand People were walking perpendicular to her, clearly startled from her presence. The leader slid off his Bantha mount, and came over to her, hand resting on the Gaderffii stick, _"What brings you out this far, desert witch?"_  
Sana raised both her hands slowly, signing along with her answer, _"I heard of a Krayt skeleton just west of here, I need it's teeth for my stock supply."_ Underneath her wraps, she swallowed dryly, though she was somewhat used to dealing with the Sand People, that didn't make them any less intimidating, especially as she couldn't gauge if they regarded her as a friend or foe.   
The leader cocked his head, looking at her black hat and curved knife on her waist before he waved her through between two Banthas, and she said her thanks, continuing quickly with her journey. 

  
After some more time stomping through the dunes, she finally came to the Krayt skeleton, taking a moment to marvel at the sheer size of the now passed on creature. She crouched down beside it's collapsed jaw, taking a second to steady herself, before pulling out a cloth from her bag. Placing her right hand in-between her thighs, pulled until her hand slipped out of her glove. The rune-carved hand ran gently over the yellowed fangs, feeling the power they once held, how they had crushed and torn into various Banthas, sand people, humans and even speeders.   
She shuddered, and took a moment to re-centre herself, before reaching for her knife. With the hilt-end curved edge secured between the upper jaw and the incisor fang, and her left hand on the tip's end, Sana pressed down with all her weight, until the fang came loose with a 'snap', the force of it knocking her back onto her behind with a small yelp. Sana scrambled back up, and retrieved several more fangs, wrapping them up in the cloth, and placing them into the bag. When she stood up, she rolled her shoulders and swung her arms a few times to stretch out the pressure that had built up between her shoulder-blades.   
Tattoo 1 and Tattoo 2 trembled as they slipped towards the horizon, a dark purple blanket began to settle over Tatooine and the night's chill began to creep in. She had to get back home quickly. You never knew who or what could roam these deserts at night. 

"Did you get the Krayt fangs?" grandmother Celesthine crackly voice called from the small kitchen of the cottage, Sana started unwrapping her neck, freeing her face from the veil, hood, and goggles she wore, "Yeah, bumped into the western hunting caravan on the way- they weren't too impressed with my presence."   
"Oh?" a wizened face popped around the doorframe, short grey curls immaculately held up despite all the steam from cooking and the dry desert heat, "We stay perfectly within our realms of our treaty with the Sand People."  
Sana shrugged, hanging up her outerwear, and knocking the sand off of her boots, "I think they think we're harbingers of evil that ought to be sacrificed." Celesthine scoffed, muttering something to herself, before clearing her throat, "Clean the fangs and place them in the preservative jar, you can grind them tomorrow, dinner is nearly ready."  
"Will do, Granny" Sana chirped, and padded in her socks to the workshop that ran parallel to the entry/living room, Sana diligently set about to soaking, and gently cleaning the teeth, before placing them in a disinfected jar filled with a, what she could only describe as, "piss-yellow" fluid. Despite it's unsettling colour, the preservation fluid smelt oddly clean, which always made Sana oddly suspicious.   
Finishing her job, she washed her hands, taking a moment to let her left thumb lightly trace over the 'eye of life' rune carved into her right palm, before shaking her hands dry and walking back into the living room area. Granny Celesthine had a small bowl of a type of vegetable soup with bread on the small table for her, Sana tried to raise an eyebrow (alas a skill she could never really master, but her version still conveyed the correct emotion), "Are you not eating?"  
Celesthine shook her head, and waved her hand, showing her own 'eye of life' carved palm, "I had my dinner earlier today, an old lady like me doesn't need a second. ", she chuckled lightly as she sat across from Sana, "And a young girl like you needs lots of sustenance, hmm? Get nice and healthy and bear little witches for yourself to train."   
Sana dramatically rolled her eyes and laughed, entertaining the old lady's jokes, but concern flared within her, that was the fifth time this past week that Celesthine had skipped dinner. Celesthine quickly moved the conversation on, "I need to make a house call tomorrow, the nice young couple on the outskirts of Mos Eisley, you remember them?"  
Sana nodded as she sipped her soup, "Struggling with conceiving right?"  
Celesthine nodded, "Yup, the wife's nearing her third trimester, so I want to check in on her and also get some supplies from the port markets."   
"Can I come?" Sana asked, mouth full chewing bread, she rarely went to the bigger cities (if that's what you could call them) of Tatooine, and was getting bored of the vast emptiness of the Jundland wastes. Celesthine shook her head, "Sorry deary, maybe next time. I need someone to hold fort here in case we have visitors."  
Struggling not to sigh or roll her eyes, Sana tilted the soup bowl back, drinking the leftovers. Why was she never allowed to go to the larger towns or cities? It's not like people constantly came to visit the Jundland witches, purely from hostility of their surroundings. People only came here if they were truely desperate, and even then, those were few and far between. The last one had been what? Three or four full orbits ago- back when she was a still inexperienced apprentice. Celesthine sensed Sana's unvoiced frustration, and softened a little, "Deary, I'm sorry you get landed with the boring job, but if you like I'll see if there's any nice fruit that's been imported, maybe even a nice loom of fabric. Sana nodded, licking her lips, and standing up to clean the dishes, "Don't worry about it."  
"Next time, I promise." Celesthine nodded, eyes crinkling up kindly, as she turned her chair to face the small fire in the heath. How she keapt a full fire going all year was beyond Sana, no matter how sweltering the day, by nightfall the fire would be lit, and Celesthine would sit in front of the crackling heat, scribbling down in her journal or lost in her thoughts. As Sana rinsed off her bowl and plate, a small smile crept to her lips as she recalled a day that had been so hot, even by Tatooine standards, that both women had spent their time lying, spread out in the shadows on the floor in nothing but their underwear, yet by the time the suns had set, Celesthine had gotten up, threw on her dressing gown and set the fire. Sana herself had just crawled into her room, trying to escape the flame's warmth. Making two cups of tea, Sana gave the elder her cup before kissing the crown of her head and bidding goodnight, "Wake me up before you leave tomorrow okay?"  
Celesthine nodded, "Of course, deary, sleep well.", her eyes leaving the flames for a minute, before focusing on the steam curling up from her cup. Sana crawled up the old stairs, and slipped into the smaller of the two bedrooms, she placed her cup on the small bedside table, and slipped out of her clothes and washing herself down with the cloth in her little water basin, she smoothed a thin layer of sweetly scented lotion over her skin, and rubbed the cleaning paste onto her teeth, before washing and moisturising her face. Feeling refreshed, she took a minute to look at the condition of her hair in the mirror- she could get away with two more rotations of not washing it if she styled it in a wrap of veil. Satisfied, she slipped into her long nightdress and sat in her bed, sipping her tea slowly. 

  
Deep breath in, deep breath out, relax. Deep breath in, deep breath out, relax. 

  
The herbal tea, and the exercise allowed her body to loosen and sink comfortably in the soft worn bed. Leaning back and staring at the ceiling while she sipped her tea, Sana let her mind wander adrift and expand, until she felt the whole cottage was encompassed by her consciousness. Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to retreat back to her own room. She felt the calming herbs in her tea, one for aid of sleep, one for muscle relief, one for general mental calm... All their teas were homemade, catered especially to their own needs, it brought a weird comfort to Sana, it reminded her of her mother at home, sitting at their kitchen table devotedly making little tea bags. Sana would sit by her feet playing with her doll, while her mother would make floral, fruits strains, and herbal packets of emotional comfort. "There's something so reassuring about a hot mug of tea between your hands" she would always say.   
The kitchen table and her old home seemed so far away from her now, nearly a lifetime ago. She had been 8 standard years old when she displayed her ability with "the essence", her mother had been tearful but proud- "You're truly a daughter of Lahire." she whispered proudly, placing her forehead against Sana's, when the small ship had landed on the forest plains of her home planet, Granny Celesthine strolled out, greeting her mother with a fond familiarity, before turning her attention to Sana. Celesthine removed her gloves, and placed her bare, carved palms against Sana's round cheeks, Sana stared at the older woman, not scared but certainly intimidated by her presence. Celesthine's face softened and she chuckled and turned to her mother, "Your girl is very like you, my sweet. Full of empathy, and understanding. She has a bright future if she completes her training."  
Sana's mother nodded, and pulled her over, placing a kiss on her daughter's forehead before holding her to her chest for a while.   
Sana closed her eyes.   
Even now, she could still remember her mother's steady heartbeat, and the her comforting, warm, sweet scent. Celesthine had taught her about the connection between mother's and children, Sana wondered for a second if all children could remember their mother's scent and heartbeat.   
Slowly, she slipped into a hazy doze, managing to put down her tea before settling down underneath the covers. Sleep enveloped her like a warm embrace. 

By the time she had woken up, Tattoo 1 and Tattoo 2 had long since risen above the horizon, flooding her room with bright light past the shutters and windows. Celesthine would have long since left to make it to Mos Eisley for the Port market, Sana mumbled a curse groggily while she rolled out of her bed. Stumbling down the stairs to the living room, she saw a small breakfast left for her on the table along with a small note. 

  
_'Don't forget the Krayt fangs!!! I should be back before next rotation._  
_Love, Granny Celesthine'_

  
Sana lazily ate her breakfast, before crawling back up the stairs, still groggy and heavy-headed from sleep, and grabbing her clothes from the shared chest in the larger bedroom. She settled for the usual Lahirean shirt- loose fitted except from the forearm down which was buttoned down the inner seam and encompassed and tied at the palms of the hands to leave fingers free for dexterity, leggings and dark green skirt which brushed Sana's mid-calf. She had always had a small stature, so Celesthine's ambitious assumption of an impending growth spurt when Sana was just 18 at the time was now humorous to look back on, but mildly annoying when all her clothes had been made to "grow with her". Perhaps she could start hemming one of her other skirts after grinding the Krayt fangs, she pondered while tying her usual apron around her waist. Doing her usual morning clean, Sana bounced down the stairs, feeling more awake than before, and made her way to the workshop.   
Reaching for the pestle and mortar, Sana began to push all her weight into grinding the Krayt fangs. The sheer strength made a sweat break across her forehead, and she was thankful for her ancestors innovation of keeping their palms covered by their clothes. After nearly an hour, the fangs had been grinded into a fine sand-like consistency, and Sana was able to funnel the product into three jars, labelling each with contents and date. She spent the rest of the day mindlessly puttering and hoking around the cottage, cleaning up she saw until the whole place smelt fresh and citrusy. By then the suns hadn't even started to set, and Sana flopped into her chair and groaned. She was bored.   
Attempting to achieve her dreams of being as calm and productive as Celesthine, Sana chased her idea of hemming her other skirt, but halfway through, the suns' light began to fade and her neck grew stiff, and her fingers tingled from her many unintended attempts to sew herself into the hem. She gave up, threading the needle carefully, and getting up to start the nightly routine of closing and locking the shutters. She hadn't lit the fire, and could feel a slight chill creep in. It wasn't enough to be unpleasant, but she could see why Celesthine's older bones might crave it. Lighting up some candles, Sana made herself a tea and curled up into her armchair, watching the singular flames dance. A compromise she had decided.  
When she felt her eyes beginning to droop, a knock instantly roused her, making her jump and spill the now lukewarm tea on her leg. Cursing, Sana scrambled out of her chair, and raised a candle as she raced to the door. 

Who would call this late? Was Celesthine home? Impossible, she wouldn't be back until morning... Meaning the knocker was likely someone seeking help, likely someone desperate. Sana scrambled through the various locks and bolts, and flung open the door to hear a hushed whispers and a muffled roar.   
Two men quietly bickered in hushed tones, a giant Wookie standing over them.   
The darker toned of the two, who donned a cape of some sort, turned to her and flashed an easy smile, holding out his hand with a flourish, "Good evening young miss, my partner and I here are looking for the Jundland witch, but I think we got the wrong residence 'cause you must be the Jundland angel." The Wookie grunted something, and the other man rolled his eyes, but flashing his own charming smile as he turned to Sana "I think what my associate is trying to say is that we ran into some trouble and we're looking for a healer. That's you right?"  
Sana nodded, cautious of any man so late at night but especially those who could turn on flirtatious smiles at the speed of light, and stepped back to allow the odd trio in. She rushed around lighting all the lamp fixtures, and moving the chairs so each could have a place to sit. The three watched her carefully, Sana concluded that had to be a very odd bunch to be so intrigued, as soon as she finished she started unbuttoning the palms of her shirt, deciding she wanted to be rid of them quickly, "Who's hurt? And where?"  
"I got my head knocked," one of the men offered, Sana stepped closer and cautiously placed her palms on his head- mild concussion, slight swelling, nothing too damning. The man smiled up at her, "The name's Han Solo, I'm Ca-"  
"You've barely got a concussion." Sana interrupted, withdrawing her hands and stepping away, now very cautious, the man, Solo face contorted slightly very clearly annoyed, "Well sorry lady that our injuries aren't bad enough for ya. I-"  
"No one crosses the Jundland wastes for something as insignificant as a concussion." Sana could hear the bite in her own tone, Solo and Calrissian exchanged a brief look, the Wookie roared something, "You're sayin' it Chewie." Solo muttered. Calrissian smiled with a flourish, "My name is Lando, Lando Calrissian, I think what my associate means to say is that we came here on accident, our ship landed nearby and fortunes shone upon us to find a healer in such close proximity. It's a small injury, yes, but you'll still be paid for your work."  
Sana's eyebrows furrowed, they were hiding something, that much was obvious, but if she healed Solo quickly, the sooner they would leave. Sighing, Sana stepped closer to Solo once again, and placed her palms on his head, lightly running them over and through his hair while silently mouthing the spell. "Mmmmm, that DOES feel good, a whole lot better than bacta I can tell ya that." Solo murmured, Chewie grunted something and Solo chuckled, Calrissian watched with an unknown look in his eye. When she could feel that the swelling and pain had dissolved, and separated, Sana once again withdrew from Solo. Calrissian's smile swiftly returned to his face, and he handed out some credits, "Thank you miss for your expertise and hospitality," gently pressing the credits into her palm, he closed her fingers around to secure them before flipping her hand and placing a gently kiss on the back. Sana watched, bemused but apprehensive, this man was the type who could talk his way out of a death sentence, he raised his eyes to her and winked, "Until next time. Miss?"  
Sana swallowed hard, struggling to keep eye contact with him, "Cassandra Lithé."  
"Cassandra Lithé" he smiled, but there was more to it, he was committing her name to memory. But why? Sana couldn't tell.   
"Thank you, gentlemen." Sana managed, guiding them out of the door, as soon as they were out of sight, she shut and bolted herself back in. Slamming her back against the door, she slid down until she was curled up.   
What the kriff had just happened?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Granny Celesthine- Basically Cel-es-thine (like thyme)-Idk I thought it was cute.  
> Lahire- La-here- my little made up species which we'll explore in more detail in later chapters.  
> Lithé- Lith-ay (like Padmé)- comes from Litha which again I just kinda messed with.  
> This is my first chapter, so I realise it might be a bit boring? I'm trying to set up the premise.  
> Hopefully next chapter I can link illustrations for the runes that are mentioned!  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy and all that, and leave a comment or whatever,  
> I'll update again soon


	2. In the end, I'll be ash and dust dancing in the wind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana's life begins to spiral out of control.  
> TW// Lots of mentions of blood, skin carving and a near miscarriage is described.  
> I'm hoping this is the most graphic it will get in this story, but make sure to check the chapter summary and beginning notes!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get the first few chapters out while I have time so we can get to the Star Wars part of the story, but still develop my character a little you know?  
> Please look at the trigger warnings above!!!  
> Anyway this chapter has more of witchy activity to it, cause I needed to set up Chapter Three.  
> Hope you enjoy

Celesthine didn't return until nearly sundown the next rotation. 

Sana had spent the day pacing around the front room of the cottage, chewing at her lips and feeling her stomach do somersaults, her hands wringing the fabric of her apron over and over and over. Her mind buzzing with every awful possibility of what could have happened to the her. The sound of a slowing speeder broke Sana from her anxieties, and she had rushed to open the door. Celesthine called out weakly, "Phew, whatta journey I had deary, you won't believe the half of it.", she tried to climb stiffly out of the speeder but nearly fell when she tried to stand independently. Sana reached out to grab her shoulders to support her, "Don't worry, I'll get the supplies, let's just get you in."  
The sudden show of weakness Celesthine displayed had terrified Sana, she helped the older woman to her chair, and rushed back out to bring in the supplies before covering and chaining the old speeder. When Sana had returned indoors, she saw Celesthine slumped in the chair, free from her wrappings and coverings, eyes closed, mouth parted slightly and chest feebly rising. Sana could see the pallid tone to her skin, and the purple circles underneath her eyes. Her heart sat in her throat, and she tried unsuccessfully to swallow it down. Creeping forward carefully, Sana removed her gloves and hand coverings, gently reaching forward to hold Celesthine's face- the weak pulse, the fluttering heart, weak, weakly, weakening. Sana quickly stood, and draped a blanket over Celesthine, rushing back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and raised it carefully to her chapped lips and cupped her chin to help her sip. Celesthine moaned something, Sana could sense her hunger under her palm. She rushed back to the kitchen and began heating some of the soup leftover, while it slowly calm to a bubble, Sana rushed back and started setting the fire, trying to coax the small embers to grow. When the flames started to grow, Sana turned and pulled Celesthine's chair closer to the heat, the orange light lit up her pale face. Dishing up a small bowl of soup, Sana kneeled next to the chair and gently started to spoon feed her, holding her hand underneath her chin to catch any spills. Celesthine's eyes remained mostly shut, but flickered a little from time to time. No words were exchanged, Sana's cheek began to sting from the unrelenting heat. Celesthine soon raised an unsteady hand, signalling she was full, Sana brought the dishes back to the kitchen, and refilled the water glass. When she returned into the living room to place the glass on their small table and stoke the fire, Celesthine croaked, "Deary, come see the journey here."  
Sana cautiously rose to her feet, and pulled her chair closer to Celesthine, freeing her small knife from her apron. She hated blood work. Celesthine raised an unsteady hand toward her, and Sana gently pressed the blade's edge to her thumb, the blood swelled free, and Sana turned it over to meet the centre pupil of her carved eye. 

  
Closing her eyes. Deep breath in.....hold.....bre _ath out..._

_Sana felt her consciousness falling and slipping through time, she was in a small home, a blonde woman wept over growing blood from her lower body, a man held her clearly panicked, Celesthine rushed into work, laying blankets and towels, a bucket of water, settling the panicked couple. Sana watched outside of herself and reality as Celesthine cut open the lower abdomen, gently moving any obstacles until she reached a small still creature. Placing the child on the mother's chest, Celesthine held a free palm on it's small body, and her other on the mother's opened abdomen, starting her incantations. The image swirled and contorted, Sana felt Celesthine's growing headache and body shakes, she saw the blood begin to drip from her nose, and saw the mother's abdomen slowly start to stitch itself back together. A choked squeal echoed the baby. Life entered the room. And Sana felt her head roll back._

Celesthine's hand fell from hers, Sana slipped back into reality, feeling off balance and light-headed. Celesthine spoke weakly between laboured breathes, "The child came early, I did what I had to... so they both could live." She coughed a little, thick with phlegm, Sana raised the water glass to her lips with two hands trying to stop her own shaking. Celesthine sipped gratefully, and licked her lips, "Deary... my time among the living has been coming to an end for a while now... raising the living from the dead like that, my time is only closer upon me."  
A lump bobbed in Sana's throat, and a pressure throbbed behind her eyes, she started to shake her head, "Don't say tha-"  
"Death comes to us all Cassandra, just a matter of when it calls." Celesthine cut across her, eyes softening a little, "I have a little time left, I'll oversee you're Passover and your rune carved before I leave this body."

Sana moved Celesthine's bed to the main living room, settling her close to the fire as she watched her condition continue to deteriorate. She would spend the days beside her, learning the last lessons the woman had left to bestow. And nights sleeping near her in the chair, watching in the dark over her blanket as the chest shakily rose and fell, raspy quick breathes filled the night air. Sometimes, Sana would reach out, placing her hand over Celesthine's own, happy to feel the woman's continued living presence while she still could. Not quite ready to say goodbye yet. 

* * *

When she was a child, Sana used to spend her worst days hiding. She would cover her body in her father's coat and curl up under her bed blocking her ears. She could feel and sense everything and everyone around her. Her head would buzz and spin, and her stomach would roll violently until she felt like she couldn't breath. Days like this were becoming more and more frequent, to a point that Sana could no longer attend school without feeling violently overwhelmed. Her mother would crouch down beside the bed, and gently try to coax her trembling daughter out, distressed to see her eyes squeezed shut and curled up in a foetal position. She felt Sana's pain as though it was her own. Trying to manage her through one of these fits of sensitivity was emotionally and physically exhausting for the two of them, and she was at loss on what to do. After managing to coax Sana from under the bed, she held her to her chest and talked her through just trying to breath normally again. Her husband and her had shared a glance, carrying an unspoken agreement, Celesthine was contacted. Sana was suitably apprehensive of leaving everything behind, not ready to say goodbye to her family as the ship lurched into hyperspace. The emptiness of space filled her, and she had vomited. She had never felt like this before- dizzyingly weightless and unbearably heavy all at once, unable to find ground beneath her feet. Celesthine had gently rubbed her back and reassured the child as she cleaned.   
Arrival to Tatooine only made Sana more uncomfortable, the grit of sand was painful and her eyes couldn't focus from the light of the suns. When they had arrived at Celesthine's cottage, Sana was drawn a warm bath, filled with calming herbs and salts, she had climbed in, still in all of her clothes and felt overcome with everything. She cried, and cried, and cried. Her little body shaking with each inhale and broken sob. Celesthine had stood, silently regarding her until Sana finally calmed down. She took out her blade from her belt loop, and kneeled next to the tub, gently taking Sana's hands in hers, "The essence of Lahire flows through our blood, the abilities it grants you are part of your heritage, your birth right. What you feel in your fits, is your own essence reaching out and connecting to others- you can hear, feel, see, touch, taste and smell all that they can, that's what overwhelms you, you're empathetic in nature. With time, you will control it at will, with time I'll teach you how to use your abilities. But first..." she pressed the tip of the blade into Sana's palm, she winced, expecting to feel pain but felt nothing, Celesthine carved a thin vertical oval, surrounded it with a circle, and drew a longer, fatter horizontal oval across her palm. A red eye stared up from her palm. It's edges were inscribed with a wriggling line weaving in and out of the eye's line, Celesthine continued to carve into her skin, "The eye of life. A symbol of protection, and strength. It sees through us all, and sees past the lies and deceit of others. Your strength lies in it's intuition. For us witches, it helps us to concentrate our powers, and abilities."  
Sana watched, feeling drained as Celesthine moved on to her next palm, "With this, you can control just how much you choose to feel, experience. No longer are you held to the feelings of others. Such is the strength of a Lahirean witch."  
Celesthine lit a white candle, allowing the flame to dance in front of Sana's eyes, she dripped the wax onto the carved palms, sealing in the runes. Sana's eyes broke from their trance when Celesthine blew out the candle, she smiled at the confused child before her, "I'm Celesthine Obél, but you can call me Granny Celesthine if you wish."

* * *

  
"Bring over the loose leaves." Celesthine whispered from her bed, Sana had helped her to sit up, and placed a tray over her elder's lap, before her lay a pale green plate, a lock of Sana's hair curled up on it's surface. Sana brought over the enamelled bowl, and the steaming pot along with the jar of various dried leaves. Celesthine lit a candle, and threw the leaves into the enamelled bowl, instructing Sana to pour in the boiling water as Celesthine reached up and cut a lock from her own hair. Sana took the lock, and silently braided it with her own that was on the plate, Celesthine held both her arms up to the ceiling, calling out the prayer Lahir'  
_"Here you oh great power,_  
_see this girl's essence flowing through her_  
_she is a child of your descendant_  
_grant her the strength and power of her ancestors,_  
_of your children,_  
_take this hair of master and apprentice,_  
_intertwined by your doing,_  
_and strengthened by love and flame."_  
She held the small plait to the flame, Sana held the steaming bowl beneath her chin, inhaling the herbal steam as she watched smoke and steam intertwine, rising and dancing towards the ceiling. When the hair had burnt through, Celesthine raised her fingertips to tilt the bottom of the bowl towards Sana, signalling for her to drink it as she continued,   
_"Oh great power,_  
_recognise your child of Lahire,_  
_see your empathy and compassion run through her,_  
_and grant her your everlasting power and love,_  
_give her your calling."_  
Sana swallowed down the hot herbal liquid, it's steam filling her vision until she could no longer see clearly. Celesthine tugged at the bowl and held the candle to the see the pattern of loose herbs on its bottom. A smile tugged at her lips, and she handed a mirror and blade to Sana,   
_"You've been granted the rune of the rising and setting moon."_  
Sana raised the blade to under her left eye, and started to carving the crescent shape, it's curve framing her eye, below she carved the most northern star, then the largest star, followed by the most southern star and finally, the setting moon. Once again, the carving didn't hurt or bleed despite it's depth, a result from the herbal steam. Sana tilted her head back, as Celesthine dripped the candle wax over the new carvings, before holding Sana's hands between her own, Sana incanted;  
_"I, Cassandra Lithé, solemnly tie my soul to the great power of Lahire,_  
_to cherish, nurture and care for all those who wish to live,_  
_to bring no death or harm with my touch,_  
_to serve with compassion and understanding,_  
_to serve as a Witch of Lahire."_

* * *

Sana didn't know when Celesthine had passed on, she woke up kneeling against the bed to find the hand she was holding had gone cold and still. Sana held her face between her hands, and gently dropped her forehead to touch her old mentor's. Beneath her palms, she could feel nothing. 

  
It took her the entire day to build the funeral stack. Wood laid across wood, criss-crossing over each other, kindling set in-between to help the flammability. She wrapped Celesthine in her embroidered sheet, and struggled to carry her to the stack. She decorated her shed mortal coil with the wildflowers and herbs Celesthine has spent her spare time cultivating, the image of the old lady fussing about the little plants that had withered under the desert heat brought a small smile to Sana's face. Wrapped in cloak, hat and veil, Sana set alight to the kindling around, and watched the smoke rise high. Up and up, dancing towards the moon. Singing alone the tunes of a land past. Coming to the realisation that she had suddenly become very alone in this big wide universe. 

It burned until early morning, Tattoo 1 and 2 crept above the horizon, it's line shaking with their heat. Sana sat cross legged on the ground, watching as the funeral stack reduced slowly. By the time there was nothing but ash, the suns had reached the high point of the sky, and Sana watched the pile for a little while longer, feeling unable to move. She simply watched as the desert wind whipped her away, ashes turned to dust.  
"You have returned to the arms of the great power once again, it's embrace warm and welcoming. Here is where I must find solace, Granny." Sana said aloud to no one. She stood up, and grabbed a fistful of ash, holding it out to the vast dunes of Tatooine, she unclenched her hand, letting Celesthine fly away with the wind, allowing herself to cry. 

She stood on the raised ledge of the cliff with her eyes down as she cried by herself for some time. Her grieving was broken by a call, and shout. Sana raised her eyes and looked back towards the cottage to see an entourage of men. One, a fleshy-pink twi'lek with nasty red eyes, called out, _"The Jundland Witch is dead?"_  
Sana walked towards them, _"She lives in me. What business is it to you?"_  
_"The Great Jabba wanted to confirm if the funeral fire was hers."_ the twi'lek male, whom she assumed must be Bib Fortuna, gestured to the pile of ash and embers with a fleshy, dirty hand, _"She lived and practiced on his soil for many years, and so Great Jabba wished to pass his condolences."_  
Sana was suddenly grateful for her veil covering her face, which tugged in disgust and annoyance, she doubted that there could be a more insincere condolence than one sent by Jabba, _"Thank the Great Jabba for his good wishes."_  
She wished Fortuna could hear her sarcasm, but knew her spoken Huttese probably good enough to convey it. Fortuna raised his brow bone and moved his disgusting nail to point at her, _"You can thank him yourself in person. Now that the witch was dead, a new arrangement must be made. We had heard of you, young apprentice..."_  
The strange visit of Lando, Solo and the Wookie dawned on her. Those bastards! Sana wanted to scream at him, had he no shame? No decency? She wanted to stay home, she wanted to mourn, not cautiously bow and scrape over a rancor pit. But she knew it was pointless, so she nodded once not even trying to hide the scorn in her voice, _"Take me to your oh 'exalted leader."_  
_"This way, Miss Lithé."_ he guided her onto the speeder boat with a hand resting far too low on her back for her liking. She shrugged him off and sat down, shaking away offers of drinks and even spice. Behind her veil, Sana's face pulled at the stench around her. The speeder boat sped through the dunes, Fortuna eyed her with shifty eyes, Sana made a deliberate point to outstare him, celebrating a small victory when he was the first to turn away.   
She wasn't unprepared for their call for a new agreement, Celesthine had told her of it likelihood, but she thought she would have the chance to mourn for a little while before their arrival.   
Her new runes burned on her skin as Jabba's Palace came into view. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the funeral part is rushed, and I will get back to grieving Celesthine, but for now I need to put Sana through the wringer. :(  
> I'm hoping I can describe Lahir' as a language in greater detail in coming chapters, but I imagine it sounding like a Semitic language (think Arabic and Hebrew).  
> Anyway hope you enjoyed reading, and I'll update soon hopefully, 
> 
> xxx


	3. The desire I'd first tried to hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba Fett watches Sana's audience with the great Jabba the Hutt unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is a lyric from Bat for Lashes song "What's a girl to do"  
> No real trigger warnings in this chapter. Just building the 'tension'.  
> All the italic writing means Huttese is being spoken otherwise it's just Basic.  
> I'm still getting used to AO3's settings so my format is a little off for the time being. Apologies.

Boba Fett was bored. 

Lounging in the Hutt Throne room became irritating very quickly, the drunken mercenaries and smugglers annoyed him, and the dancers no longer entertained him. He wanted to work, a familiar itch he could never seem to fully scratch settled on him, but every time he checked the data log, no job jumped out to him. Even some piss easy job below his paygrade like the time he was sent to babysit Solo to retrieve the Yavin Vassilika would've been better than to spend time among his so-called "equals" around him. Half of the room didn't even come close to him in terms of skill-set, that was clear to him, the other half, though admittedly had some fight to them, would still be easily subdued by someone of his calibre. He sighed, summoning long-past lessons of patience from his father, and got up from his seat. There was a reason he had decided to stay, there was talk of the old Jundland Witch being dead, and he wanted to see for himself how chaos would follow her replacement.. Boba Fett took his usual place standing behind Jabba on the dais, where he would be spared from the advances of over-confident dancers, and make clear, his differentiation from the rest of the crowd, as well as get a better look at the witch's replacement.    
According to Solo, who had been sent with Lando to scope out the apprentice on news that the master was growing weak, she was young, and not bad to look at, and apparently was attracted to Solo. According to the Wookie Chewbacca, she had only expressed pure disdain for the smuggler. Chewbacca's account of events was the most likely to be true, and had piqued the bounty hunter's interest. He wanted to see the girl who quickly saw through Solo's tricks- a skill few seemed to possess, from his experience.   
No sooner had Jabba briefly acknowledged the bounty hunter's presence, with promises of more work, Bib Fortuna scurried in, bowing and scraping under Jabba's reptilian gaze. _"I've brought the girl, Your Excellence, she confirmed the Jundland Witch is dead."  
_ _"Bring her in."_ Jabba ordered while bringing some squealing creature to his mouth, he chewed disgustingly loud and his tongue darted out to lick away the remains that had escaped his swallow. Fortuna scurried up the steps, waving down the young witch, a slight hush settled over the throne room, everyone tried not to look like they were paying attention but it was clear that her arrival had garnered some interest. Few witches remained these days, even fewer of Lahirean descent. Though some had survived the Empire's genocidal policies, very few openly and actively practised their faith.

Through the spice smoke haze that always filled the room, Fett saw the darkly-clothed frame of the witch begin to descend the stairs. His first thought was how tiny she was, maybe just over five feet tall, it was hard to tell with the height of her hat. His second thought, a more perverse one, was how easy she looked to subdue or kill. The bounty hunter categorised all people this way. She seemed to creep down the stairs carefully, barely making a sound. The air felt heavy as she approached Jabba's throne, Fett couldn’t make out her face beyond her veil, it obscured all her features as she bowed slightly,  
_"Your excellence,"_ her voice sounded unusually steady for someone so young in such a vulnerable position, just a step off the trap door, _"I have come here before you on your request to renew the terms of my predecessor."  
_ Jabba's bellowing laughter filled the room, _“I had heard that the witch had a young apprentice, I wasn’t expecting someone so… tiny.”_   
Snickering laughter and hushed whispers filled the room. It was unclear to Fett whether the girl understood the underlying message; she was clearly at a physical disadvantage in this room. But she simply levelled her veiled gaze to the Hutt, _“I will be honest, your excellency,”_ he wasn’t sure if he had imagined the sarcastic bite to her tone, ‘brave girl’ he thought to himself.   
She continued, _“I simply wish to renew these terms and leave, my attempt at a traditional funeral was… interrupted, let’s say, by your men.”_ _  
_ Jabba leaned forward slightly, _“Leave the dead to burn, young apprentice, there’s little you can do for them. But yes, I wish to keep this meeting as short as possible, come closer so you can review the terms that we’ve taken the liberty to already draw up.”_  
He waved over to Fortuna, who held a holopad out just beyond the girl’s reach. She took a step forward, and the trap door opened, she fell into the pit of the rancor. 

The room filled with shrieking laughter, cheers and chatter as bets were placed on the girl’s fate. Boba Fett rolled his eyes, he shouldn’t have bothered with all this and gone to seek out other jobs off world, but just as he debated walking away it dawned on him- there was no screaming, no pointless cries for salvation or pleas. She would die more honourably for most. He leaned forward to see clearer the little witch’s fate.    
The Rancor roared as it took thundering steps towards its prey, and the crowd gathered over the bars of the pit gleefully cheered at the girl’s threatening demise. The cheering grew louder as the Rancor’s claws enclosed around the girl, he raised her up to his mouth and then… stopped?   
The witch had removed her gloves, her exposed palms holding down on the Rancor’s claw around her. His helmet picked up her quick and firm incantations of a language he didn’t recognise. The Rancor’s heavy breathing subdued, he lowered her down and released her from his grasp. It slowly curled up into a deep sleep. She tilted her head up to see the confused audience, and mockingly bowed, before picking up her gloves and walking towards the exit of the cave. 

Everyone stood still, unsure how to react but Jabba laughed as she re-entered the throne chamber, _“I’m glad to see you’re no mere imposter.”_ _  
_ She stayed standing over the bars of the pit, saying nothing, Jabba continued, _“My information was that you were just a little apprentice, which you understand is of no use to me. Clearly, my sources were wrong.”_   
The girl kneeled on the grate, and rested her hands on her thighs as she bowed her head, _“I’m glad that my show of skill has impressed your excellency. May we continue the negotiation of our terms?”_ her voice was slightly more tense Fett noticed, but she held her composure well.  
Jabba waved to Fortuna, who stood in front of the girl as he read out the holopad document, while Jabba lounged back and sipped at his wine.    
_ “ His Excellency Jabba Desilijic Tiure of Nal Hutta, Eminence of Tatooine, hereby grants that successor of Celesthine Obél; Cassandra Lithé will be allowed to retain her residence and practice on the Jundland Wastes of Tatooine. Under His Excellency’s terms, Lithé is to provide any mercenaries under the employment of His Excellency discounted rates of 80%, in return Lithé may request acquisition of supplies and materials for her practice and will not be reported to the Empire.” _   
The girl stayed silent, as sniggering chuckles filled the room around her, she stood up abruptly, _“50%”._   
The room became deadly quiet, Fortuna hesitantly looked back to Jabba for guidance, but the Hutt simply glared at her, _“Do not overstep your boundaries more than you already have, little witch.”_   
_ “With all due respect to your excellency, a healer of my practice and capacity seems to be important to your empire, otherwise I would be dead by now. A 50% cut to my rates for your mercenaries is more than fair.”  _   
Fett watched with interest, few ever stood up to Jabba, fewer did so bravely or eloquently, and even fewer would survive. Jabba grunted, _“An important asset, perhaps, but not a necessary one little witch, remember that. 65% no lower.”_   
Lithé bowed, _“I accept the terms of our agreement, your Eminence.”_   
The air cleared, and the throne room filled once again with music, murmured conversations and unsavoury activity. Lithé signed the document, and bowed once again to Jabba, taking her turn to leave; she was interrupted by his decree of a ‘celebration feast’. Her presence wasn’t dismissed yet.

  
The palace was thrown into a flurry to prepare a feast for the appetite of the great Hutt. Staff scurried around like displaced womp rats, working triple time, only to have their efforts met with the rage of Jabba on news of Solo dumping a hefty cargo. The palace fell into chaos and turmoil while Jabba processed the news. It was clear that this was Solo’s last straw.

  
Boba Fett moved out of the throne room, into the back passages climbing up the back veranda to allow his helmet to filter out any spice that was caught in the vents. He was greeted by the witch leaning slightly over the railing, seeking refuge from the volatile throne room much like himself. She had her veil pulled up to reveal her face as she cleaned the dried blood from under her nose and over her lip.    
Solo hadn’t lied when he said that the girl- Cassandra Lithé- wasn’t bad to look at. She had a face he could only describe as soft and delicate, skin paler than his own with light dappling of freckles on the highest point of her cheekbones, loose little brown curls strayed into her forehead, roundish-almond green eyes turned to face him. She was young, too young to be in the clutches of this place. He didn’t look twice at the rune, all he could think was how tired she looked, how sad and how helpless...   
He strode over and grabbed her two small wrists between one of his hands, pulling the veil back down over her face with the other, “You do not show your face to any of the beings in this Palace, do you understand?”   
“What the kr-” she started but he shook her wrists in his grip, which was strong enough to nearly knock her whole body off balance, “Do you understand?”   
She nodded cautiously, “Yes, I understand you, can you let go of my hands now please, you’re hurting me.”   
Fett quickly released her wrists, a part of him called to reach out and rub away any pain he had caused, what was wrong with him? Why had he become overcome with a desire to protect the little witch? He watched with a twinge of remorse as she rubbed the circulation through her wrists. He leaned over the rail, breathing deeply to encourage the filters in his helmet to clear out- the spice was getting to him, that was all. He could sense her watching him closely, he waited for her to speak, ask him a question, anything to break this silence that had settled.   
Sana leaned over the railing beside him, and quietly, hardly above a whisper stated, “You were behind Jabba when I was dropped into that pit.”   
He turned to face her, nodded once, and returned his gaze to the outstretched sands, feeling her gaze lingering on him, “You think I can’t handle myself?”   
Fett chuckled and stood straight, turned slightly to her, “No, I know you can’t, don’t think your little witchcraft can save you from everything in this palace.”   
She stood straight, matching her posture to his, “My ‘little witchcraft’” she parroted, tone biting, “can’t save me from the likes of cowards like you who hide behind helmets?”   
Fett’s lips pulled into a sneer behind the visor, he leaned down and took a step even closer to her, “Watch your lip, little one.”   
Sana took a step closer, closing the distance between them, “Or you’ll do what, oh-so-scary masked man? You seemed pretty anxious that I kept my face covered, almost as if you were concerned for me safety.”   
“Don’t be so naïve, little one.” he hissed,   
She jutted her chin up, dropping her voice to a hoarse whisper, “So then why? Tell me why you sounded so urgent about it then. ‘Cause I’m getting pretty sick and tired of having to guess everyone’s underlying agendas today.”  
He reached out and held her chin gently between his gloved forefinger and thumb, through the veil she stared up at him as he leaned in so close that their foreheads nearly touched, “Just thought it would be a shame to lose any claim over that pretty little face of yours.”   
His hand slipped away, and Sana scowled as she watched him descend the stairs back into the Palace.    
Smug Bastard.    
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're falling into 1BBY/0BBY timeline currently, I mention the Yavin Vassilika hunt- that comic takes place 1BBY, and also Han's dump of cargo, so this is probably set like a month before A New Hope.  
> Dialogue is probably my weakest point, but I tried to have a little fun with emphasising Bib Fortuna's grovelling "Your Excellence" vs Sana's polite, but more forced, "your excellence."  
> And tbh Boba Fett is a little out of character? But let's hope I can fix that in the later chapters.  
> I wanted to get the first three/four chapters out, cause I'm aware not everyone has the patience for a slowburn fic, so I'll try to update in chunks by next weekend!  
> As always, leave a like or comment or whatever, hope you enjoyed.


	4. If we want to surive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana copes with the loss of her mentor, and struggles to keep loneliness at bay as she settles into a routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:// Brief descriptions of groping/ non-consensual contact.   
> Implications of sex and masturbation.  
> We all gotta cope.

The cold air of the empty cottage greeted Sana as she swung open the door. It was dark and cold. The weight of her heart in her throat finally dropped to her stomach, and Sana began to weep. 

It took her several days to finally rouse herself from her bed. A fine layer of dust had settled around the home, the water tank was empty, and the kitchen was cluttered with half eaten meals that were beginning to rot. She hesitantly began to clean the cottage, wiping away any last traces of Celesthine. She turned on the vaporators, and secured the connection to the water tank, before she opened the windows and shutters, to let out the stale air, stripped the beds, and wiped away the dust that had been allowed to settle. By nightfall, she sat in the bathtub, struggling to find the energy to reach out and flick on the tab. She felt empty, hollow, each inhale was nauseating, every move her tired body made felt like too much. A part of her screamed in frustration, she shouldn’t allow herself to rot in grief, she needed to keep going. But her empty, swirling mind outweighed this call for action. After nearly an hour of sitting, shivering in her tub, Sana reached out and flicked on the tap. The gush of hot water and steam helped alleviate the dull pressure that had built up behind her eyes and across her sinuses, after hours of crying. She reached her hand over the edge of the tub, and grabbed the bath oil and herbs, scattering them across her lap and legs, as the water reached just below her armpits. Reaching out to turn off the tap with one hand, she used her other hand to start unpinning and untying the braids that wound around her head. Loose curls cascaded down and fanned over the surface of the water, Sana inhaled deeply, and dunk her head under, letting the water surround her. 

* * *

Sana’s next few months were marked by her dangerous dance of trying to work under Jabba’s empire. Half-dead mercenaries knocked at her door at all hours, most of the unsavoury kind. She had turned the living room into her surgery, with two beds, and two chairs for any visitors that sometimes called. Though she was glad that they were few and far between, those who did visit mostly sat and watched as Sana worked, with hungry gazes, teeth bared in sharp smiles, and hands twitching to grab her. Sana took to layering her clothes, so their wandering hands could never land on skin or grope her fleshier parts, and her face stayed half covered at all times. She felt constantly on edge, never able to let her guard down even in her own home. And to top that, the pay cut strained her surgery and livelihood, she found herself bartering and calling favours to keep her stock cabinet full. Jabba’s terms were deliberately vague- she could ‘request’ for supplies, it was rare that she ever got them.    
News of the destruction of the Death Star by the Yavin Moon reached her through her patients. Sana felt a sharp sting of hope in her chest, with the Empire gone Jabba would no longer hold her by a chain… But the likelihood of the complete fall of the Empire was unlikely, and even then, Jabba would probably send one of his men to kill her if she left his employment. The pain of acceptance settled in her. She would try to make the best of it. But deep down, she could feel her resolve wearing thin. 

When Sana wasn’t healing beat up mercenaries to exhaustion, healing with her hands until her nose would bleed and her head would throb from strain of her abilities, she was devotedly making various salves and remedial tinctures to sell in the Port markets. Time spent not working, was spent curled in her blanket, reading over Celesthine’s notes and practice log, marking information she found herself forgetting. Always working and distracting herself, because the minute she let herself stand still , she would find herself stuck in her own prison of loneliness. Times like these made her want to see her mother again. 

  
When she lay alone at night, she longed for the touch of another person, one who didn’t know or care who she was, or what she was, or what she could do. One couldn’t use her identity against her. On rare occasions, she would manage to venture into the cantina’s of Mos Eisley and Mos Espa, and find some bright eyed, warm moisture farmer who would hold her for a night in the dark rooms of motels. The pleasure was little and temporary, her own hands could do better, but the warmth of another being, the rise and fall of their chest against her back, that was a feeling she couldn’t mimic. She would leave before they would wake up, never learning their names and never giving hers. Always left wanting for  _ something _ more, but she knew that no one would knowingly submit themselves to a witch trapped under the clutches of Jabba’s power. 

Lying in her own bed on a night that seemed to drag out endlessly, Sana’s restless mind drifted and wandered, feeling the empty cottage around her, the gentle freshness of the plants in the small greenhouse she kept beside the kitchen, the sharp winds outside in the cold…   
She turned to her side, and huffed. She couldn’t settle despite feeling like her dry eyes were about to burst from exhaustion. She was pent up and frustrated. Turning back to lie down on her back, her fingers ghosted between her legs, trying to see if that roused anything to ease her. She found a dull throb, but felt uninspired. She tiredly flicked through past experiences in her mind, trying to find anything that could get herself going, but wound up wanting and even more frustrated than before. She flipped over to her stomach, and groaned into her pillow. Twenty one kriffing years old and hardly a decent sexual experience to fuel her own pleasure. Taking a deep breath, she turned back onto her back and closed her eyes, tracing her face with her hand how she imagined a lover would. Her fingertips drew imaginary lines on her jaw, slowly coming down to her chin...   
That gentle hold on her chin on the Palace veranda popped into her head.    
Sana sat up, chest heaving, she swung her legs over her bed and padded to the bathroom. She splashed her face with water, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dark, and her pink lips plush. Shame burned through her. She couldn’t be that desperately horny could she?   
Patting her face dry, she returned once again to her bed, and tried to sleep, but her mind was cruel. And she gave into her desires. Behind closed eyes, the memory replayed over and over. His voice ringing in her ears, the seductive smell of leather filling her nose, how he towered over her, his frame nearly engulfing her in green armour, his large fingers so gently resting on her chin, and that damned nickname, _ ‘little one’.  _ _  
_ She finished, chest heaving, a little lost in bliss before the sheer embarrassment of her situation settled over her. How could she get so turned on over such a stupid little thing? From a man whose face she had never even seen? A man whose name she didn’t know? From an insignificant little run in from over a year ago?   
Sana cursed herself but found herself laughing a little, it was such a ridiculous situation to find herself in. Cleaning herself up, and settling back into bed, a deep sleep slowly embraced her.    
It wasn’t like she was gonna see him again anyway. 

Sana marked the end of each evening by cleaning up the surgery. Though patients arriving in the night were few and far between, she made an effort to keep the place in constant readiness, just in case. The fire grate stayed empty these days, a vase of flowers, and smoky incense took the place of curling flames. Lighting the fire didn’t feel right anymore, and Sana didn’t find any comfort from it’s heat anyway. It was always a painful reminder of Celesthine’s absence from this life...   
She set about closing and locking the shutters and windows, securing herself from the hostile desert for the night. As she was about to walk upstairs to clean and change for the night, a knock shook her door with such force it made her jump. Sana bit back a grunt of annoyance, and muttered curses as she stomped over to the door. She undid all the locks, and swung it open to be faced with a wall of green armour. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my last update this weekend! I should be back posting Saturday/ Sunday again!  
> Thank you for reading  
> xxxx


	5. Hold it together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba Fett enlists the Lahirean witch to tend to some irritated burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based just after the events of the comic short 'Salvage' (low-key one of my favourite Boba Fett comics)  
> I keep adding new tags as I go along, hence the sudden 'no pregnancy' tag- I know its a massive make or break for readers, and I'm undecided myself at this point. If I was to do it, it would probably be in a separate one shot.  
> Thank you for the kudos and hits, and comments, very sweet of you all, you really cheered up a stressed out student 😊💕

He wouldn’t lie, the failure of the salvage had hurt his pride.    
He had lost one bounty, nearly another, and on top of that a potential 10 million turnover if he had thought it through a little more.    
At least he had managed to get the crown from the coffin as his prize, that and his own life. 

And perhaps in front of him was yet another prize for his troubles. 

The witch, Cassandra Lithé, was staring up at him again. The edge of the now silver rune peeking up from beneath her veil, that covered most of her face. His advice had stuck from the last time it seemed.   
“You still seeing patients, little one?”   
She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in. He surveyed the small cottage, memorising the flow between the furniture and where each spot could leave him vulnerable. She had closed the door behind him, and rested her hands on the back of her waist, waiting for him to finish his analysis it seemed as she muttered something he couldn’t understand beneath her breath. She took a second to clear her throat, “What’s the issue?”   
“What can you do about burns?”   
She raised her eyebrows, moving her arms to cross but then switching to dust off her apron instead, “Depending on the severity of the burns, treatment can range from a simple salve to full tissue repair. I’d have to have a look to know for sure.”

Sana watched for a stretch of eternity that only lasted a second, as the bounty hunter decided. Her initial shell-shock of seeing him again had worn off as healer instinct kicked in. He didn’t convey any signs of pain- no strained voice or breathing, he could walk with his usually prided energy with no clear difficulty. But bounty hunters were a difficult breed to read, the usual tell-tale signs of pain and discomfort rarely applied to them. She heard a slight sigh escape through the vocoder, “Do you have a private consultation room?”   
“Nope. But I’ve got a door lock and a-” her mind blanked, how did you say that again? She snapped her fingers once or twice, before she simply pointed at the railings that surrounded each bed, with a tired sigh, “That thing.”   
“Privacy curtain?” Even through the vocoder his voice sounded amused, she huffed slightly, “Yes, a privacy curtain, thank you.”   
Taking a moment to regain her composure, and what little grasp she had left on Basic this late at night, Sana motioned for him to sit on the patient bed, before pulling the curtains closed around him, “You still want me to lock the door?”   
“Yes.”   
“Alright, I’ll assemble some materials I need. Do you have any allergies?”    
“No.”   
“Perfect, then just remove whatever armour you need to so I can see the burns.”   
Did that sound right? Defeated with her disappearing Basic, Sana walked into the adjourning workshop and scanned the shelves of jars containing various homeopathy treatments. Black Melon salve, Naboo honey and Ryloth bark should help a burned human male. Sana stopped for a second, “Is he human?” she whispered to herself. Nothing to her had indicated otherwise, but it was always best to double check these matters. Assembling the various jars, ointments and utensils on a tray, she balanced it on her hip and returned to the main room, stopping outside the closed curtain, “Tuk-tuk?”   
Silence, on the other side, Sana cleared her throat, “Um… if you’re not ready yet that’s fine, I think the honey needs to be warmed up anyway. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”   
She walked through the arch into the kitchen, and checking the heat of her hot water tap with her fingertips first, placed the butt end of the jar under the steady stream, turning it slowly, as the honey started to dissolve. Letting her thoughts roam as she stared out at the desert sands through the small crack in the shutters.   
Why had he, of all people, have to arrive this late at night? She hadn’t thought of him since that night she had divulged in her own pleasures. It was weird, and had left a gross feeling over her body. And she had made a pointed effort not to think of him since. Neglecting her own needs that were beginning to build up again in the process.    
She took a deep inhale, and held it for a second, exhaling out all her jumbled thoughts before she turned off the tap. Submerging the jar in a bowl that had collected the run off, Sana returned it to her tray and went back to see if her patient was ready.    
“Can I come through?” she cautioned, and was greeted with an affirmative sounding grunt. Rolling back her shoulders, Sana stepped through to see the bounty hunter’s outer shell of armour- save the helmet- removed, and his upper body free of his flight suit. Despite the red irritation of the burns, she could tell his skin was a warm bronze, and his strong build was even more intimidating outside of his usual attire.    
At least she was right about him being human.    
Her eyes flickered to the previous scars inflicted on his body, all from various stages of life, before she blinked back into her Healer focus, placing her tray on the little bedside table, and pulling up the accompanying chair for her to sit. She undid the buttons on her sleeves while taking time to study the damage the burns had caused, feeling very aware of the gaze through the T-visor.    
The burns weren't severe, but it hadn’t been attended to properly, leaving several patches of the skin red and inflamed. She slowly lowered her palms to his forearm, raising her gaze to the visor to nod at him as she did so. Bounty hunters and mercenaries were a jumpy lot. Beneath her palms she could feel the uncomfortable irritated heat that radiated off the burns, she took a minute to ensure there was no blistering or skin tears that could lead to infections before she reached for the honey and gauze strips.    
Spooning on a generous amount of honey, Sana gently massaged it across the skin with one hand, before applying the gauze strip over. Before she started with another area, she looked up to see her own reflection in the visor, “If there’s any pain, take two sticks of the bark to chew.” she nodded her head to the Ryloth bark on the tray for him. And he nodded once.    
Sana started to repeat the process for the next burn, “How’d you get the burns anyway?”   
“Salvage.”   
Sana’s eyebrows knitted together, and she tilted her head slightly, not breaking her eyes from the treatment, “How does salvage result in second degree burns?”   
“You ask too many questions for someone in your profession.” he sighed. Sana looked to the visor and raised her eyebrows, “Just trying to make friendly conversation. You can ask your own if you wish.”   
Silence stretched between them while Sana wrapped the second burn, and moved on to a third around the middle of his neck, the skin was more irritated there and Sana could see a slight glimmer of weeping pale skin. She cleaned her hand of honey in her small disinfectant bath on her tray, and reached for the Black Melon salve, applying the goop in thick slathers. It’s fermented smell made her nose wrinkle, “Apologies in advance for the stench of this but it will go a long way to help this along.”   
He didn’t acknowledge or complain about the stench, just exhaled deeply as she stood up to rub the salve into the back of his neck. 

“What’s ‘Tuk-tuk’?”

  
Sana stopped, a little taken aback, but giggled a little, “The sound someone makes when they knock on a door, no?” She rapped one of her knuckles twice on the side of his helmet to make her point, “Tuk-tuk. See?”   
He stiffened a little, and Sana mumbled a small apology, returning to her work and silence.   
“Basic is ‘knock-knock’”   
“Basic is unbelievably stupid.” she muttered to herself, “Took me the longest to learn.”   
“Your original language is Lahirean.”   
She couldn’t make out if it was a question or statement, she started to stick the gauze over and wrap it loosely, “It’s Lahir’, but yes, it’s my mother tongue.”   
“The language you tamed the Rancor with that day.”   
“Yes. Lahirean witch speaks Lahir’.” Sana moved to the burns on his other arm, no broken skin, so back to the honey wraps.   
“As well as Huttese, but not Basic it seems.”   
She was a little taken back by his joke, feeling her cheeks heat up behind her veil as she smiled to herself, “Well, I’m sure you’re just a master linguist Mr-?”   
It dawned on her that she didn’t know his name. She looked helplessly at him, but just cleared her throat as she wrapped the final gauze, “Keep these on for the night, I’ll show you how to change them in the morning. The refresher is the first door at the top of the stairs, and the kitchen is through the arch behind me, help yourself to whatever you need. ‘Whatever mine is yours.’”   
She stood up and took her tray, as she left the curtained station. Sana fumbled as she cleared away for the night, an odd heat settling in her chest, as she did her last cleaning round. The curtain was still closed when she began to climb the stairs.    
“Fett.”   
She stopped, tilting back to see if the curtain had moved, “Pardon?”   
“My name is Boba Fett.”   
That same smile spread across her face again, “Sleep well Boba Fett.” 

* * *

Cassandra’s ascent was light on the wooden staircase, her last two steps leaving a creak that echoed throughout the whole cottage. Boba Fett finally closed his eyes, as he tried to summon at least a nap, but a part of him felt restless. Real or imaginary, he could hear Cassandra’s quiet movements above him as she got ready for bed; the light ‘thump’ when she kicked off her boots, the small clatter of that pin on a table, the slide of fabric against skin. Despite himself, he wondered if the rest of her body was as soft as her hands… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mutual pining anyone???  
> Sana's multilingual brain fog is one of my favourite aspects to this, honestly, and I want to expand into it a bit more. I used the Hebrew onomatopoeia for 'tuk-tuk', cause for now at least, that's the language I'm drawing inspiration for Lahir'.  
> My original drafts for this was WAY different, Sana was a lot meeker in them but that's not I want for her character, so a bit of healthy banter instead? Set up a more believable attraction? (Or try to anyway.)  
> Thank you for reading  
> xxxx


	6. Mind-Body Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A feared bounty hunter and a lonely witch together in a cabin, both confronting the intense mind-body problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's ignore the clichés please.  
> Also I'm enjoying writing Boba's inner thought process vs his actions, the contrast is impeccable.

It felt like forever since she had joked a little with someone.

Sana tossed and turned in her bed for most of the night. A giddiness fizzled in her lower stomach, and she found herself feeling stupidly happy for the first time in an age.   
Most of her patients were Jabba’s men, already acknowledged to be the unpleasant, handsy type. And the few non-crime linked customers she’d get were terrified of the ‘Jundland witch.’   
The light banter with anyone was welcomed by Sana, the fact that it came from him…   
Sure, she still thought he was a smug bastard, but sometimes that was appealing. Her mind drifted back to the bronzed skin, the fine dusting of dark hair on his chest, and all those scars with different stories...  
She shook her head, and tried her breathing technique to calm down her swirling mind. It was a bad decision to get intimately involved with anyone within Jabba’s empire, especially a bounty hunter. And besides, light banter didn’t mean he was interested in her like that anyway, she thought. 

But still, her palms tingled from the warmth of his skin. 

* * *

The binary suns rose, splitting the sky in deep reds and oranges as they woke Sana. She slipped out of bed, and crept to the refresher. After going to the bathroom, she splashed her face, puffy from sleep, with cold water, and cleaned her teeth, grossed out by her own breath, and her pallid looking skin, adorned with dark circles that framed under her eyes.    
She had been neglecting the extra care she had used to take care of herself before Celesthiné’s passing. In the span of a year she felt like she had aged by a decade, she tried to ignore it, reasoning that it was just the morning’s effect on her.    
Rubbing her eyes, she sighed and pulled her hair out of the unravelling braids as she exited the refresher, making an effort to start combing through the bigger knots with her fingers when she stopped dead in her tracks.    
Boba Fett, still-helmeted, at the end of her stairs, staring up at her.    
Sana swallowed a small lump in her throat, feeling her jaw tighten and suddenly very naked with her flimsy nightgown and loose hair. Hadn’t she heard that others rarely noticed the things about personal appearance that an individual would fixate on? She choked out a little, “Good morning.”   
He nodded once in response, and started ascending the stairs, Sana rushed back to her room and slammed the door. Feeling the flush that crept up her face, and burned the tips of her ears, as she slipped into her underwear, leggings and lacing up her undershirt. She cursed her own internal conscious effort to reach for her nicer skirt, and tried to tone it down with her usual blouse and boots. She tore through her hair with a hairbrush, cringing at the sound of hair breaking, before plaiting the braid around her head with practiced hands and securing it by nearly stabbing through her own skull with pins.    
She hadn’t expected him to be up so early. Most patients slept until the afternoon when given the opportunity, by that time she would’ve been at the very least, dressed. She hurriedly wrapped her veil to cover most of her face- questioning the point of it as he now had caught her sans covering twice-but maybe just maybe he hadn’t gotten a full and clear look of her face...

He had gotten a full and clear look at her face.    
Not a quick glance like the day at the veranda, too quick for him to fully take in her appearance. He saw the full trail of the silver scar cupping under her eye and extending down to her jaw. He saw those glittering eyes again. He saw the small, plump lips that parted slightly and exposed a chipped right canine tooth. He saw that she was still delicate, but the youthful roundness on her cheeks and jaws from a year ago had dissipated. How her hair fell down to her waist, and how her nightdress did nothing to hide the shape of her body with the warm light shining from the window behind her like some sort of angel.   
She looked innocent in the Tatooine sunlight.    
He removed his helmet in the privacy of the refresher, seeing his own father’s face in the mirror as he scrutinised the stubble that shadowed his jaw, cringing  
slightly at the waft of the black melon salve that washed over him. He splashed his face with cold water. 

The witch had left some impression on him, her capability to carry herself in Jabba’s den like she did was impressive, but the way he had felt her face melt into his fingers on the veranda had stuck with him. He found himself reflecting back on it on nights alone in Slave-1, how she seemingly let her guard down around him with no ulterior motive.   
He was used to being feared, his presence greeted with wide, scared eyes, and sometimes screams of terror and fleeing. He was used to it, he hadn’t known much else, he let few close enough to be comfortable with him. And most of them were gone now anyway.    
When he had found himself wanting some temporary physical companionship, it would briefly satiate his urges, but the contracted nature of it left a more emotional part buried deep inside wanting. 

To have the guarded witch willingly melt under his touch had stirred that buried aspect of him. 

He looked into his father’s eyes, “You’re getting soft, old man.”

By the time he had returned down the stairs, an unusual scent drifted from the kitchen through his helmet, he leaned on the arch as he watched her cook. It was an oddly domestic image, and that stirring happened again.    
He kept repeating to himself that this attraction was part of some sort of phase. 

She turned around to face him, seemingly feeling his eyes on her, and her eyes crinkled up slightly, “Good morning.”   
She sounded more sure of herself this time, and she approached him holding out a bowl of something he couldn’t identify, “I’ll change the dressings after you’ve eaten.”   
He accepted the bowl, wondering when had been the last time someone had cooked him a meal, “How much will the treatment cost?”   
He watched as she counted on her fingers, frowning and muttering in Lahir’ again, “100 credits.”   
“Seems low.”   
“It covers the cost of materials.”, she tugged slightly at her fingers, and rocked on her heels. Beneath his helmet, he raised his eyebrow, “And your time?”   
She shook her head, “I’m a healer by culture, not a profit seeker. Now eat up before it gets cold.”    
Not waiting for any response, she spun on her heel and moved back and beyond the kitchen. He sat down at the bed he had slept on, and behind the privacy of the curtain, removed his helmet to eat. Whatever she had given him wasn’t tasty or flavoursome but it tasted like it would be nutritious. He tried to stomach as much as he could, before returning the dish to the kitchen sink. His helmet picked up the sound of breathy and shaky singing in her mother tongue, in the room beyond. The tune was gentle, and sounded vaguely cheerful, it was hard to tell with the language barrier. He strolled over to the arch, seeing her crouched and tending to various plants and herbs, submerged in water basins, and lit in sunlight that shone through several strategically placed windows. 

She didn’t know how long he had been standing there observing, the only clue to his presence had been the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. She bolted upwards to stand straight, nearly losing balance in the process, the time it took to centre herself he had spent continuing his observance. She started to curse the invulnerability his helmet provided.    
“You want me to change the dressings?”   
He nodded once, and strolled away, seemingly carefree to the world, as Sana brushed her hands off her apron, and rushed to join him in the main room. She waited beyond the curtain, staring and playing at her hands, childishly tracing the ‘eye of life’ rune over and over with her fingertips, while the soft clinks of armour echoed in the room.

“You can come through.”   
Sana parted the curtains, and bit her lip at the sight of his broad wide body again, she started to wonder why he hid his face from her as she started unwrapping dressings and removed gauzes. Disposing them in the tray, a thick silence settled between them, too awkward to break, too awkward to leave to hang. She gently started to clean, and redress the wounds. They were looking a lot better already.    
“Why hide behind the helmet?”   
He shifted under her hands, Sana cursed her own curiosity, what if he was hideously scarred? Not that much could’ve fazed her, but it’s always sensitive ground.    
“Same reason you wear a veil. With anonymity comes safety.”   
Her hands stilled slightly, nodding, “Makes sense this side of the Empire. So… No one’s seen your face?”    
She wished she would just shut up. He grabbed her wrists, gentler than the previous time, “Still just making friendly conversation, little one?”   
Heat rose up behind her veil, “Don’t call me ‘little one’ I’m no child.”   
“You’re smaller than me, it fits.” he retorted, cocking his helmet to one side, he pulled her wrists in closer, dragging the rest of her body with them, “Unless you’d prefer a  _ different _ name.”  
His tone was mocking, he had her in his clutches again as she subconsciously started melting into him like before. Her breathing felt heavier than before, “Preferably my name.”   
“Cassandra?”   
Oh the way he said it made her spine shiver, he was no moisture farmer, he was powerful, and that transferred even to his voice. Locking her wrists together in one hand, he reached the other to hold her chin again, pulling her down so they were close again. Sana closed her eyes, and tried to keep her composure, “Sana.”   
“Sana?”, her spine shivered again, she was sure he could feel it by the sound of the chuckle beneath the vocoder, “I’m not sure it suits you, little one.”   
“You’re impossible.”   
“Oh, is that so?”, the chuckle was more apparent, dragging his hand down her chin, down her neck, wrapping his fingers around the back and resting his thumb at the base of her throat. He pushed in lightly, and she whimpered despite herself.    
“What, exactly, are you going to do about it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forecast shows a spell of smut ahead.


	7. Desire and indulgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two loners give indulge in their desires.  
> TW// Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we all know, Boba Fett fucks.

“This is unprofessional.”

Sana pulled away from him, her body screaming at her for not giving in, Fett offered no resistance, and simply started re-donning his armour. Sana busied her shaking hands with cleaning up the tray and salve jars, trying to banish her racing thoughts and the dull-ache between her legs.    
It had been a while.    
She carried the tray out to the workshop, and Fett sauntered behind, holding out a pile of credits from the door. Sana cast her eyes briefly to the amount, “Too much.”

“It’s an average healing salary, Sana.”

She swallowed the lump bobbing in her throat, “By my culture and creed , I will not take anything above 100, Fett.”

She wiped her hands a little too roughly on the towel, Fett muttered something she couldn’t understand, “Then I only have 50.”

Sana glared a little, walking over to take the 50 credits, “You owe me.”

“A debt that will be paid in full next time.” It was an assured statement, but it had that mocking lilt of his to it. She realised she hadn’t moved her hand from his palm, had simply rested it there with the credits, enjoying the human warmth secreting from the gloves. She started to retract it, when his fingers closed around her hand, holding her still.

“Is it still unprofessional if I’m no longer your patient?”

“Look, I’m not one of Jabba’s dancers-“

“I never said you were.”

He leaned in close, so close she could hear, and feel, each inhale and exhale from his body against her own, “Do you want this, yes or no?”

“Depends...” she matched his gaze, and grinned, “Does the helmet stay on?”

He didn’t answer, simply pulled her with him through the room and up the stairs. With his back turned to her, he took off his helmet, leaving it on the dresser, and pulled her into him.

Sana felt his lips crash into hers, and the scrape of teeth and bump of noses as they hungrily tried to explore each other’s mouths. His hand held her face, pulling and angling her up into him, and she whimpered when he bit down on her lower lip. Tongue met tongue, and his lingered on that god awful canine before tasting her further. Under his mouth like this, she could barely breathe, her chest burning as she pushed her hands against him, trying to move back far enough to get a full inhale.

He pulled away, thumb swiping spit and drool back into her mouth as she panted, pushing his thumb in, he smirked when her tongue eagerly licked it, “You should see yourself now, little one. Like clay in my hands.”

Her eyes fluttered up to him, trying to study his face but only taking in fragments. Dark brown eyes, strong jaw, and stubble that scratched against her skin. Her hand settled on the back of his neck, pulling him in to kiss her again, running her other hand over and through his hair with her fingertips in a way that made his spine shiver. He reached his hands to the backs of her thighs and pulled her up, causing her to yelp slightly into his mouth, before he was moving one hand to her waist to keep her steady as she rolled her hips into him, desperately seeking any friction. He dropped her body onto her bed, smirking at her splayed out beneath him, before pulling at her shirt slightly. Sana took his meaning, and sat up as she started to undress, his eyes never left her as she discarded the veil, shirt, dress and leggings, kicking off her boots to the floor. 

He raised an eyebrow, she envied that he could do that, and pulled at the laces of her undershirt, as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I don’t have time for any teasing.”

She complied, a little too eagerly for her own tastes, but the sound of his un-modulated voice on the shell of her ear, and the heat of his breath against her made her brain short-circuit. Throwing away any usual logic to the wind, as her body pulsed with anticipation.

Satisfied, he pushed two gloved fingers into her mouth, “Bite down.”

She complied yet again, and he found his smirk tugging at his lips again as he freed his hand from his glove. He moved his fingers down to the soft skin between her breasts, her skin was warm beneath him but she shivered under his touch. He trailed his fingers around the softer, sensitive parts of her skin, watching intently which places made her sigh, or whimper. His fingers went further south, slipping in between her legs as he bit on the skin on her neck.    
  


Sana tried to keep her mouth shut to prevent the moans spilling out, the sharp bites on her skin followed by the heat of his tongue to soothe over the stinging skin, and the fingers expertly moving, and circling that small bundle of nerves was nearly overwhelming.    
Definitely no moisture farmer.    
He dipped his fingers into her, and she winced at the slight stretch, pulling his head up to kiss and suck around his jaw. The curl of his fingers, his thumb rubbing on her clit made her chest constrict, building pressure, and she tilted her head back and moaned. It felt so good. 

  
Her thighs started to shake as the pressure became too much and her mind blanked, but he kept going, and soon her moans were filling her small bedroom. She shook beneath him as she came, the sensation coming in waves as she fell flat against her bed, panting. He looked at her face, smirk still fixed as he cooed, “Little witch worn out already?”   
Sana raised her eyebrows, and managed to stick out her tongue, one of his own eyebrows cocked up, and he flipped her over. Sana nearly felt winded as her stomach hit the mattress. Behind her she heard the clatter of his codpiece hitting the floor, and the sound of a zipper. She tried to turn her head to look back to him, but he pushed his palm into her head as he lifted her hips, lining himself up. She gasped as he entered quickly, her walls stretched and pulsating around him, burning from the stretch of his girth. He set a quick pace, grunting slightly as he leaned down to her and bit on her shoulder and laughing a little as Sana cried out, and clenched her fists around the mattress sheets. 

The bite of the cold metal pressing against her back made her shiver. He pulled his body back up, reaching around with one hand to thumb against her clit. She was falling apart under his touch. Sana’s moans and whimpers filled the room, the smell of sex filling the air. 

Her body shook beneath him as she finished again, her moans fuelling his own drive, holding on a little longer, he tilted back down to her ear as he kept thrusting in, “Such a good girl for me, hmm?”   
She whimpered, and he felt her clench around him, he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Where?”   
“Out.” she managed, face buried in her mattress, he pulled out, and Sana felt herself being rolled over again. He stroked out his own finish onto Sana’s stomach, before he fell forward, caging her between his arms as he held himself above her, panting as he leant in and bit on her ear. 

Sana’s body pulsed and burned, as she reached out with her hands to hold around his wrists, feeling the strong pulse and warmth under the skin. She trailed her hands upwards, up over the cold metal of the gauntlets on his arms, over the pauldrons on his shoulders and up to his bare neck, taking in the sensation of exhaustion and satisfaction when beneath her palms, sensing a slight tingle of pain when her hands ran through the back of his hair, she frowned, “Do you have a headache?”

He nodded once, and pushed her hands off him as he sat up to slip his cock back into his pants. He left momentarily, and returned with a cloth. Sana pushed herself up onto her elbows, body protesting slightly, as he started to wipe away his cum on her stomach, moving down to the heat between her thighs. She winced at the cold against the still sensitive area. Sana grabbed at his shoulder to help pull herself up, and placed her two palms on his head. She gently started messaging, her lips mouthing silently, as she felt the tingle dissipate beneath her touch. It wasn’t a dramatic headache, but she felt the relief it provided when he sighed, relaxing under her touch.    
“Doesn’t that tire you out?” he mumbled, gesturing to her nose to remind her of her bleeding nose on the veranda. Sana snorted, “To calm down a starving Rancor? Yes. For your post-coitus headache? No.”   
Her hands lingered, massaging long after the headache had disappeared, savouring the feeling of strength and warmth under her hands. He was the one to move her hands away, standing up to pick up and re-attach the codpiece to his armour, before grabbing his discarded gloves. Sana felt the uncomfortable fullness of her bladder as she watched him reach for his helmet. Holding it under his arm, he stood in front of her kneeling on the bed, and reached out to hold her chin again, looking down at her with an unknown glint in his eye.    
“Don’t think this makes your 50 credit debt disappear.” Sana whispered, smiling and exposing that chipped tooth again. He raised his eyebrows, and leaned in, “And you said I was the impossible one. Until next time then.”    
He pulled the back on, hiding his face once again with the ‘click’ of the sealing catch, and left Sana shivering on the bed. 

She wondered if next time would be as satisfying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel writing smut, but I tried to keep it short and sweet for a casual hook up like this. We'll get more explicit in the future lmao.  
> Also this is your daily PSA to always pee after sex if you have a vagina, remember your birth control, and when with a new person, always use protection!!!


	8. We are strangers in a strange land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana starts to pick up the pieces of her life and is brought back to Jabba's Palace.  
> TW// Implications of drinking, drugs, and prostitution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long I'm so sorry, but the flow just hit me. I wanted both aspects of this chapter but they didn't sound right separated.  
> All Italics are Huttese!

It took awhile for her body to realise how rough he’d been on her.    
That evening after closing up for the night, Sana had climbed into the bath, wincing at the sensitive bruises on her hips from his grip, and the pulsing ache between her legs as she sunk into the water. She exhaled and sunk her body further in, staring at the rising steam from the water as it danced up towards the ceiling, blissfully tracing patterns on her thighs with her fingertips.    
The course of events had been playing out in her head since his departure that morning. She sucked on her bottom lip, remembering the feeling of him deep in between her legs, her hips squirming from the memory of how he had sounded against her ear.    
It felt nice not having to finish herself off for once.    
She sighed, and splashed water over the top of her shoulders, gently tracing over the bruises he had left over her shoulders and neck as she massaged the cleansing oil over the tender skin. Her mind wandered to what he would do when would visit again.   
If he would visit again.    
She sat upright from the intrusive realisation. Bounty hunters weren’t the kind to keep a steady casual partner.   
She grumbled to herself as she pulled her knees to her chest, and submerged her face into the water to scream, she suddenly felt frustratingly naïve.    
Her face emerged, tired and dripping, and she spent the rest of her evening trying to scrub away anything that she had previously felt. 

The clean sheets felt too cool and crisp against her skin when she had laid down to sleep for the night, contrasting with the air that was too warm and stiff from having the windows open all day. She couldn’t settle, her mind was spinning.    
She had been intoxicated with the idea of being wanted and desired, enough for him to make the first move, that she had neglected to think critically about the situation.    
Bounty hunters didn’t sleep with people simply because they actually liked them, he probably found himself pent up and wanting a warm place to land when he arrived.    
And why would she want him to actually like her? The sex had been mutually satisfying, the temporary company welcomed, couldn’t she leave it at that? Two adults could have sex without getting further involved in each other’s lives, and expect nothing more between them.   
Besides, she had learned to get by fine on her own, the presence of another was occasionally desired, but actually committing… was something else. 

Her early childhood had been spent watching her own parents’ healthy relationship, a loving one, but she had lived a completely different life to them. Her mother had gotten to practice in the calm woodlands of Sana’s homeworld, safe in the arms of her father when they had met. But the sands of Tatooine grew a different breed of person, not kind-hearted lumberjacks like her father, anyone who walked on the stands likely was someone who could be cruel, who could do harm. Even during her one night stands with moisture farmers, the residue on blasters or cycler rifles that they kept close wasn’t lost on her. You did what you needed to in order to survive. And that was certainly true for someone like Boba Fett. 

No, she wouldn’t let herself fall under the spell of a false fantasy, she vowed to herself, she wouldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable to some stranger. She had taken her vows as a Lahirean witch, that was all she needed to live a fulfilled life, even if she was under the strings of the Hutts, she could manage, as long as she had herself, she could get by. 

  
  
  


Two lunar months passed with no sign of Fett, and Sana quickly grew re-accustomed to the solitude of her cottage. Patients came and went, she found a new satisfaction in treating them dutifully, or tending to her plants, which were beginning to flourish with her songs and touch. Their growth encouraged her. If they could thrive despite the harsh sands of Tatooine, then so could she.    
Something deep within her had finally snapped back into place.    
For the first time since Celesthine’s passing, she began to feel like herself again.    
She busied herself fixing the pipe of the water vaporator, and trading with the Sand People for Black Melons and Bantha tusks. They were no longer so wary of her, sometimes giving her extra Black Melons if the harvest had been good. She worked hard developing connections at the port market, securing more definite supply chains for her stock. Business outside of Jabba’s mercenaries started to pick up slightly, and she found herself having a little extra cash.    
At the next market day, Sana bit her lip as she looked on at the stall that supplied looms of fabric. There was a particularly pretty green, it would match her eyes, and she was pretty sure she could construct a dress from it, practicality aside, it would be nice to have a soft fabric lie against her skin. She ended up giving in, exchanging a healing salve to get a discounted price, feeling stupidly excited with the prospect of a new dress.    
She gently wrapped the fabric loom, and placed it in the back of her speeder, covering it with her cloak to protect the fabric, before packing away her stall. The suns had begun their descent in the sky, and she wanted to get back home before it got too dark.    
After finally managing to get the old speeder to shudder to life, Sana relished the feeling of wind rushing past her ears as she made the long journey home, the cooler than usual air making her feel refreshed after the crowded, sweltering market. The empty cottage was no longer as intimidating when she swung open the door, and she unloaded her goods while humming, a habit she picked up trying to find the joy in simplicity of work.    
The colder evening had begun to settle into her bones, and she stared at the fireplace, contemplating.    
Lighting the fire brought an odd sense of comfort to her. She pulled up the chair close to the small, building flames, she was out of practice from over a year’s absence, but still, it felt good to have a familiar comfort again. She spent the evening drawing up the pattern for her dress, catering it to her own wishes and styles, feeling a girlish delight coming from the activity. She talked about her day aloud in Lahir’, feeling Celesthine's presence in the warmth of the fire as she babbled mindlessly about gossip from the market, her plants, and eventually divulging about her experience with Fett.    
The exercise was oddly comforting, feeling like she was talking to someone, even if she was alone, provided an emotional comfort she had begun to forget. Looking up, to the admittedly pathetic fire, Sana smiled as she finished up for the night, “Goodnight Celesthine.”

* * *

  
  
  


The arrival of Bib Fortuna dampened the general contentment that had begun to settle in her life. With his wide, red eyes blinking down at her, and stench permeating through her veil, Sana struggled to keep her face from grimacing, thankful for the cover of her veil,    
“ _ Your presence is requested by his excellency, Jabba the Hutt. _ ”   
She bit the inside of her cheek, and nodded, “ _ When is my presence required? _ ”   
“ _ This evening, before the suns set. _ ”, his face split into a gross sharp toothed smile, screaming danger, as he bowed his head and left. Sana closed the door and groaned as she lightly hit her head against the wood, she had done her best to avoid going back to the Palace as much as possible, scared that each move could always be her last there. Resigning herself to it’s unavoidable nature, she wrapped her cloak around her body, and slipped off her veil to tie a theriac laced one to try and combat the effects of the spice smoke that would permeate the throne room. Looking at her covered form in her mirror, taking a moment to reassure herself, before journeying out into the desert sands, heading towards the threatening Palace as the suns set crept below the horizon.    
  


Even through the theriac, Jabba’s Palace smelt as bad as she remembered. 

She waited at the top of the stairs that led to the throne room, same as before, before Bib Fortuna waved her down. She was brought before Jabba, and she bowed again, before he quickly dismissed her with a wave of his hand.    
She looked to Fortuna for any direction, but he had gone to wave someone else down, and she bowed again, before turning and scanning the throne room for a place to sit. A crowd had settled around a table in the far corner, and she stood on her tiptoes to peek over a dancer’s shoulder to see an advanced game of Sabacc taking place.    
Fett was one of the players.    
Her stomach curled. She brushed it aside as a result of her uncertainty for her summons, and watched as the game progressed. 

The throne room slowly filled, the music grew louder, and the noise only grew as more drinks were consumed. Sana watched as Fett didn’t drink, one hand holding his cares, and the other resting on the table, tapping the surface with gloved fingertips. She tried to stay focused on the progression of the game, rather than the distant memory of his fingers inside of her. 

After a few rounds of failing to understand the logic of events, she tapped the dancer’s shoulder, and whispered, “ _ What are the rules of the game? _ ”   
The pink twi’lek laughed lightly, shaking her head, “ _ Who knows, all I know is that it involves lots of credits, and the stakes are getting higher. _ ” she leaned back to Sana and brought a cupped hand to her ear to whisper, “ _ I think it’s a masculinity competition, a way to prove who has the biggest balls among them _ .”   
Sana brought her hand to the front of her veil to try and smother her giggle, as the players started to show their cards. The dancer stepped back slightly so she could be side by side with Sana, as she whispered past the murmurs that filled the crowd, “ _ From what I can gather, Dengar has the best hand, but Fett’s playing it safe. Knowing him, he has something up his sleeve.” _   
Sana recognised Dengar from her practice, the human male had so cybernetic components that it made it difficult for Sana to treat him, he had been too flirty for her comfort but had paid in full and left without any trouble.    
The next round went through, the dancer turned to her, holding out her hand, “ _ I’m Astrid, resident dancer and backup singer. You’re the Jundland Witch right? _ ”   
Sana nodded, shaking her hand, “ _ Yeah, Cassandra. _ ”   
“ _ Numa over there, _ ” she nodded to a Rhodian across from them on the other side of the table, “ _ was convinced your name was Lahirean, the girl’s got no brains behind those big eyes. _ ” 

“ _ By this point, I think I’d respond to anything. _ ” Sana scoffed lightly, earning a smirk from Astrid, she opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Dengar slamming the table and swearing. The two women watched as Dengar clearly struggled to contain his annoyance as Fett pulled the pile of credits to his lap. Astrid quickly pulled Sana aside, as Dengar stomped through the crowd, throwing a suggestive wink as she sauntered towards the bar where he had sat down, gently running her hand over his shoulder and pouting her lips as she draped herself over his legs.    
Sana turned back to the table, the game was over, and one of Jabba’s servants collected the credits for Fett as he stood up, parting the crowd with her sheer presence. He stopped in front of Sana, and she nodded once, “Nice win.”   
“You followed the game?”   
She shook her head, “Not really, card games confuse me.”    
He cocked his head, and she stared at her own covered form in the visor, she cleared her throat, “I didn’t take you for gambling type.”   
“It’s not a gamble if you know you will win.”   
Sana opened her mouth to respond, when Bib Fortuna came over, pulling at Fett’s arm “ _ His excellency wants to speak with you _ .”    
He nodded once to him, and let his hand lightly brush against her crossed arms as he walked away. Disappearing into the crowd. Sana felt that familiar bob in her throat, and coughed to try and banish it. Astrid returned to her side, raising her eyebrow ridge, “ _ What was that about? _ ”   
“ _ We’re acquainted. _ ”   
“ _ Acquainted, hmm? _ ” she teased, linking her arm through Sana’s elbows as she pulled her to a booth, Sana shook her head, “ _ Acquainted in the sense, he came to my practice once, like many others here. _ ”   
Astrid’s eyes glimmered mischievously, “ _ Are you trying to convince me or yourself? _ ”   
Sana was eager to change the subject, “ _ What’s the occasion anyway? Fortuna didn’t tell me anything.” _ _  
_ She scoffed, “ _ Fortuna’s not a reliable source of information for anything around here. It’s just one of Jabba’s parties, nothing to worry about, drink and relax, and try not to get fed to the Rancor-again.” _

_  
_ Though she didn’t take up the offer of a drink, Sana spent most of the evening chatting with Astrid, feeling oddly at ease around the dancer, she left once to do her backup singing and then again to do a dance routine that stretched several repetitions on order from Jabba. Alone in the booth, Sana was approached by several past patients, some offered her drinks- which she declined, but tried to make polite conversation by asking them how they felt. They would awkwardly answer before excusing themselves to go talk to a passing servant or dancer. One twi’lek mercenary stayed, and tried to reach and touch her while flirtatiously grinning, but his hand was slapped by Astrid, “ _ Oh please, you still owe several dancers who say you weren’t even worth it. Move on. _ ”

He snarled slightly, “ _ Shouldn’t you get back to your rounds, whore?” _ _  
_ His insult didn’t faze her,  _ “She’s Jabba’s guest too, my duty extends to her, so let me repeat myself a little clearer; move on before I throw you in front of Jabba for unpaid debts.” _ _  
_ He spat something, presumably Twi’leki, at her before skulking away, and Astrid sunk into the booth next to Sana, _ “Darned mercenaries, always a pain in my ass.” _

Sana grimaced at Astrid’s clearly tired state, “ _ Do you want any help?” _ _  
_ She smiled slightly, “ _ If you wouldn’t mind, I got a feeling Dengar’s gonna pay for my time tonight. _ ”   
Sana removed her gloves, and held Astrid’s hand beneath the table, muttering the spell to try and revive the twi’lek’s energy. Astrid sighed with relief, “ _ Oh that feels amazing. Thank you so much. _ ”   
Dengar arrived on cue, holding out his hand to Astrid and grinning, “ _ You ready? _ ”   
Astrid matched his grin and nodded, leaning in to kiss Sana’s cheek through the veil, she whispered, “ _ I know you’re uncomfortable here, but it’s nearly close up time, wait for Jabba to retire and escape then. _ ”    
She slipped out of the booth, and taking his hand, she waved back to Sana, “ _ Thanks again Cassandra, and come back soon, okay? _ ”   
Sana waved back at her, feeling exposed as drunken mercenaries stumbled around looking for a pair of legs to settle between for the night. 

Eventually Jabba retired, dragging leftover dancers with him behind a curtain, and the party atmosphere immediately began to wind down. Sana nearly jumped out of her seat in the booth, eager to get away as she rushed up the steps and down the hall past the Gamorrean guards that stank so badly, even through her veil.    
She stepped outside and took deep breaths in, trying to cleanse her respiratory tract with each exhale. She had been in all night it seemed, the suns were beginning to creep over the horizon, and her eyes began to sting from exhaustion. She stretched her arms above her head, feeling her spine straighten and crack, and she was starting to walk away when an all too familiar voice called out,    
“Sana.”   
She stilled, taking a deep breath to brace herself before spinning around to see him, “Boba.”   
He walked towards her, closing the distance between them, “You alright?”   
She swallowed down the bobbing that had resurfaced in her throat, “Just eager to go sleep. Why?”   
He remained still and steady, seemingly attentive as always, “You seemed uncomfortable.”   
“Would you blame me if I was?”   
“No.” He shook his head, and reached to grab her hand, she felt the weight of credits being pressed into her hands. She smiled a little, and looked up at him through her veil, “Then why be concerned?”   
She internally cringed at her slurred basic, but her thoughts left her as his hand moved from hers and up to trace down the side of her face.    
His touch ignited a fire in her lower belly, only fuelled by his whisper as he leaned in, “I hated the way they looked at you in there.”   
Her mouth turned dry, and she tried to speak but he interrupted by tapping her chin like usual, “Go home. Go rest.”   
He turned to return to the Palace, and before she knew it, she called, 

“Will you accompany me home?”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to keep fleshing out Sana outside of her relationship with Boba so you're gonna be subjected to chapters like this in between and around the smut.  
> Also Astrid was a last minute addition, but honestly I love her already, and besides Sana needs a friend.  
> Also chapter comes from another Bat For Lashes lyric, what's new? (Two Planets)  
> Hope ya'll enjoyed, and stay tuned for the last updates for this week tomorrow  
> xxx


	9. You learned how love ought to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba learns the story of Sana's chipped tooth, unaware of the pain that it resurfaces.  
> TW// Brief/ vague description of sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel about this chapter overall, it comes across a bit heavy but the reality of this kinda thing is that your constantly back and forth between doing great and then not-so.

Fucking the witch had satiated whatever had settled in him previously.   
He had left her home that day, and continued on with his life and work. His unknown desires buried deep enough again for him to pretend that they never even existed in the first place. Seeing her at Jabba’s Palace hadn’t surprised him, but the bubbling anger when the other men had approached her did. Seeing the twi’lek mercenary reach out to her from where he stood watching across the room, his hand had flinched over his blaster, but that dancer had stepped in. 

  
Still the possessive flame that curled within him didn’t dissipate. 

He hadn’t been lying when he said he hated the way they had looked at her. 

He groaned as he finished, slumping over the smooth skin of her back and biting at her shoulder as she whined beneath him. He took a minute to catch his breath, and let his nose brush against the back of her neck before pulling himself up. He started to re-do his pants with one hand and reached for her nightdress with the other, throwing it over her tired body before lightly pinching her hip, “Go clean yourself up.”  
She groaned slightly, and pushed herself up to stand on shaking legs, her face and chest flushed as she pulled on the thin slip over her dishevelled hair, before stumbling to her bathroom. He ran his hands through his hair, and yawned, his head felt heavy, and his eyes stung slightly as they watered. 

He was rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to chase away that feeling, when Sana returned, hair now braided into two loose plaits. She stood in front of him, and started running one of her palms over the crown of his head, “You okay?”  
“Tired.” he mumbled, and she sat next to him on her bed, leaning her head on his shoulder pauldron, he stiffened slightly, jaw tensing from the feeling of the weight of her head resting on him. She didn’t seem to notice, and spoke through her own yawn, “There’s enough water downstairs to make caff if you want it, but you’re also free to nap here if you want.”   
She fell back onto her bed, shuffling back and curling her knees up to her chest. She rugged her blanket up to her jaw with balled fists, and shut her eyes, sighing deeply. He watched as she shivered under her blankets for a bit, before she mumbled past her hands, 

“Why’d you get all those scars?” 

He didn’t want to answer her question, the least she knew about him the better, “Why’s your tooth chipped?”  
“My big brother pushed me out of the speeder when I was a child, took two of my baby teeth with it.” she answered sleepily, seemingly forgetting her own question.   
“Brother?”   
She made an affirmative sound, her words becoming more difficult to understand through the filter of exhaustion, “Seryozha... never apologized for it...bastard.”   
She yawned again, the edges of her eyes brimming with the tears it brought, “Haven’t spoken in years...too long...he’s probably forgotten.”   
Before she could divulge more details of her odd family life, her breathing became steady and deep - she was lost to the world of sleep.   
The universe always gifted the innocent with easy rest it seemed.   
He felt his lips tug upwards a little, before he got up to retrieve his helmet. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sana woke up alone and sore, once again.   
The suns had reached the highest point of the sky, and a dead, hot air had filled the room. She kicked off her covers, and groaned at the pain it sparked, flinging her arms over her face as she tried to breath through it.  
Boba hadn’t even prepped her like before, just asked her if she wanted it before descending on her, and now she was left to pay the painful price for it.   
She stumbled with wobbling legs into her clothes, and down the stairs. And had to lean heavily on the edge of her kitchen sink as she greedily gulped down a glass of water, drinking another as she waited for the caff to heat up.   
Her head felt fuzzy, her groggy mind trying to find the reasoning behind her logic, why had she suddenly craved him again? 

She had previously convinced that she had moved on but found herself back to square one again.   
She reasoned it down to wanting to forget the sickening uneasiness that had lingered in her body all night at Jabba’s.   
Her mind drifted to what she had told him before she went to sleep.   
She held her mug of caff between her hands, it’s heat stinging her bare palms, as her heart sank to her stomach. The feeling of abandonment caught in her throat, making it hard to swallow. 

She had been the only one of the three to inherit her mother’s ‘gift’. Her siblings had gotten far luckier deals of life from the Great Power

Her brother, Seryozha, had been tall like their father, but lanky at the age of 14, he smiled with a considerable tooth gap, and his own green eyes would glimmer with mischief when they would play-hunt in the woods. Like their father, he had skilled hands, able to fix anything he touched, and craft something out of nothing.

Her baby sister, Anya, had been a small and chubby baby, round red cheeks and grabby little fists, she had their father’s blonde curls and his golden eyes. She would babble, and chatter intensely in the secret language of babies in a way that made Sana and her mother giggle. 

Sitting alone on her dusty kitchen floor, she wondered how their lives had turned out. 

13 years had passed since she had left home, Seryozha would be 27 and Anya would be 14, and she hadn’t grown up with them, to see what kind of people they became. 

She was meant to. 

Her mother had tried to train her, tried to teach her, but it had been no good. Sana was too sensitive, too overwhelmed, and too volatile. It made sense that her mother had turned to Celesthine for help, Sana didn’t blame her.

Perhaps they were happier without her? Seryozha probably slept better after she had left, no longer woken up by her own crying when things all became too much, and Anya probably didn’t even remember her. 

Even if she felt lonely, if she could focus on how much better they were without her she could find solace in that, and leave them in peace. 

But that didn’t mean it hurt any less. 

Sana wiped the tears that spilled onto her face with the back of her hand, breathing shakily as she tried to get rid of the constrictive feeling in her throat and sternum. She coughed, and smacked at her knee a little too harshly, “Pull yourself together, mercy of Great Power.”

She stood up too quickly, body screaming from irritation, but she ignored it and coped with her resurging sadness the best way she could - by throwing herself into work. 

  
She laid out the fabric she had bought, and cut the pattern for the dress. It had been a long time since she had sewn, and it showed. She continuously poked her fingers with the pins and needles, causing red hot blood to bloom on her skin, which she’d suck away to avoid spilling it on the fabric. And her measurements were slightly uneven, meaning the dress had to have an extra few inches trimmed off on one side to even out the hem. Nevertheless, the result was satisfying, save for a little puckering on the seam under her right armpit, the dress looked neat.   
She spun in front of the mirror, admiring her handiwork, it was plain with the typical puffy sleeves that narrowed in to hug her skin beneath the elbow, but she had let the dress hug the silhouette of her torso to the bottom of her hips, the skirt falling down to her calves.   
Her temporary satisfaction fizzled away with the setting sun as she gently unlaced the back of the dress, and slipped back into her nightgown for the night, hanging up the dress on the back of her door before she got ready for bed.

  
She closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the shadow of loneliness that had engulfed the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In short- Sana would 100% do the Mitski shuffle.  
> Her siblings have oddly Russian names, might expand on it later.  
> Feel free to comment any questions/concerns/criticisms/ spellings or sentences I messed up.   
> Otherwise, thank you for reading   
> xxx


	10. Ruthless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana's lost in her own dreams, but finds herself being pulled further into Jabba's Empire.  
> TW// Mentions/descriptions of blood and gore(?), torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it goes without saying I'm no doctor, so most of my medical knowledge comes from learning how to make do growing up in Bandit country, i.e. never follow any medial procedures I mention in this fanfiction as a whole, it's all fictional.  
> But lowkey honey is good for burns 😊

_Drip...dripdrip.. Drip...dripdrip... Drip...dripdrip..._

The image of chipped blue walls with their outdated Aurebesh charts and maps had returned from the deep crevices of her mind.   
She was back in her old schoolhouse back on her homeworld, moonlight shone through the windows, illuminating and bathing the dusty room in cool light. Her mother stood at the head of the class, her back to Sana as she was singing softly, making those little tea bags.   
_Drip...dripdrip.. Drip...dripdrip... Drip...dripdrip..._   
Sana stood up from her table, feeling big and small, as she approached her mother,   
“You need to sew the bags, ima.”   
The closer she got, the farther her mother seemed, dripping sound got louder, rhythmic as a heartbeat. Sana reached out to her mother’s shoulder, “Ima, will you let me sew the bags? The tea is leaking.”   
Her mother didn’t turn to face her, just kept humming. Peeking over her shoulder Sana saw her own minced up heart in her mother’s hands, contained into small fabric bags, her blood dripping to the floor.   
_Drip...dripdrip.. Drip...dripdrip... Drip...dripdrip..._   
She continued to stare at her mother’s bloody hands, unable to tear her gaze from them as her mother turned to her, handing over the tea bags tied with their pretty bows and closing Sana’s hand around them, “Cassandra you need to sew them into your clothes. It’s for luck.”   
Her heart was still beating in fragments. 

* * *

Her stomach lurched, and she felt like she was falling. Sana woke up, sweat pooling in between her shoulder blades and making stray strands of her hair stick to her skin. Her chest hurt as she tried to catch her breath, she pushed herself up by her elbows and wiped her face with the arm of her nightdress. She stared at her own hands for a moment, hot and slippery with sweat, the feeling of blood and tissue still sticking in between her fingers.   
She shuddered, head fuzzy and spinning as she swung her legs out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. The morning greeted her with a brimming blood stain on the lower half of her nightdress.   
It explained her odd dream.   
She sat and held her heavy head between her hands, her body shaking with her yawns, before she finally found the strength to wash herself.   
She stood naked as she soaked her night dress, watching as her skin paled and knuckles turned pink under the cold water, before she started to rub out the stain. The cold biting into her hands and wrists helped her whole body cool down.   
“At least you’re not pregnant.” she muttered wryly to herself, she had remedies for such an occasion, typically sold to wide-eyed women who whispered their problem, or men who wouldn’t meet her eyes as they shifted their weight from foot to foot. She didn’t judge them, Lahireans were all taught from a young age that judgement was not something graced to mere people or even witches, only the Great Power held that responsibility. She wondered how the Great Power judged someone like Fett as the water around her wrists slowly turned red.   
The heavy heat that pooled in her lower stomach, and brittle pain that settled into her lower back made her grumpy, as she tried to go about her day as normal, stopping occasionally to brace her hands on a surface or ledge as head-lightning pain rippled through her cramping uterus. She didn’t know why she didn’t just take painkillers, perhaps she was a masochist through and through. Whenever she did this, Celesthine would always tut, “You don’t get any prize for suffering the pain, deary.”

  
A weak knock at her door raised her concern. She pushed herself off her chair and stumbled across to the door. Chipped green Beskar greeted her wordlessly as he shoved past, and she groaned internally. She didn’t feel like sleeping with him at that particular night, she was too tired and her body still felt heavy and bloated to be properly interested in sex. Before she could voice her objections to his arrival, she noticed his unsteady footsteps, and his laboured breathing. Her mind snapped back into focus, as she rushed to help him, “What happened?”  
He sat on the chair she’d previously been on, sinking in as he held out his palm to show a dried brown barbed plant embedded deep past the glove, “Grey leaves… red root…” each word was strained, Sana carefully removed his helmet, studying the grey-yellow skin, gleaned with sweat, as she started to remove her gloves. He continued, “Slave-1 d… database said Icicatharian…”   
“Icicatharian stinging vine?”   
He nodded once, slumping his head down, as Sana found his pulse- not as strong as usual beneath her touch. She held her hand across his forehead- his skin was burned against her but the sweat was cold, and she lowered her hand to hold up his face to her to study the bloodshot eyes.   
“How long since the initial insertion?”   
“S..standard ro...rotation.”   
She was surprised he had lasted that long, the plant had completely dried up having excreting all its poison into him. It could splinter and split apart completely if she didn’t remove it properly.   
She held his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her, “Breathe, I need to grab some materials.”   
She picked up the metal tweezers, scissors, small forceps and bowl, disinfecting them under the hot water before grabbing the cloths stacked in the workroom. She knelt in front of him, placing the cloths under his hand, and started cutting the glove in half.   
“I have to remove it all before I can treat you for the poison. Icicatharian stingers secrete an enzyme that blocks painkillers, so I’m going to talk you through breathing, alright?”   
He nodded once, exhaling shallowly as Sana removed the remains of his glove. The stingers hadn’t completely impaled his palm, but that didn’t affect the poison’s spread, colouring the veins and capillaries in his hands with a dead grey.   
“Inhale for me.” she instructed, replacing the scissors for the forceps, he complied as she secured their grip around the main body of the plant, “One. T-”   
She pulled, removing the majority of it, and he shouted out a string of expletives. She discarded it into the bowl with the forceps, and reached for the tweezers,- as suspected, the deepest part embedded into his skin had splintered with the removal of the main body, “The worst is over, but I need to get these remains out before you get painkillers.”   
He slumped back into the chair, breathing heavily, as Sana patted the swelling blood away and started removing the small remaining stings embedded into the sensitive tissue with extreme efficiency.   
“Almost there, feel free to continue cursing me. I need to hear that you’re still alive.”   
He grunted out something she didn’t recognise, “Haven’t heard that one.”   
“Mando’a.” he said through clenched teeth,   
“You want to teach it to me?”   
“Too foul for you.”   
“You sure?” she tried to joke as she removed the last of the stingers, and dabbed at the blood that was beginning to flow, “I’ll get some painkiller for you now.”   
He shook his head, “Just finish it up.”   
Sana nodded, taking the damaged hand in one hand and placing the other on his forehead before she started mouthing the spell. She closed her eyes, and her brows furrowed in focus as her hands started to tingle and sting, her ears began to ring. Without realising it, her speaking grew louder, and each breath became more laboured as she continued repairing beneath her.. Poison extraction was slow and exhausting, especially advanced poisoning, and soon her head started aching from the buildup of pressure. Beneath her hands, she could feel the blood beginning to sing and flow with its usual strength, feeling the grey turn red as his own essence healed and restored.   
The skin on his palm closed up, and she allowed herself to collapse onto her back, head spinning as she stared at the ceiling. She heard him speak, but didn’t grasp what he had said, past the pulsing in her ears, and she waved her hand at him vaguely, “M’fine...dizzy.”   
She sighed, placing her stinging palms flat over her eyes as she started to take deep breaths, to try and centre herself, “Will you pass me my gloves? Hands hurt.”   
She felt him take her wrists, gently sliding her hands into the familiar smooth gloves. She smiled up at him a little before she pulled herself up, feeling his palm securely on the small of her back. She mumbled her thanks and bowed her head a little, focusing on her apron as she waited for the dizzy spell to ride out.   
“Next time you get poisoned by an exotic plant, don’t leave it until last minute to get it treated, okay?”   
“I’ll keep it in mind.” he sighed, a moment’s silence passed, “Thank you.”   
She waved her hand dismissively, “All in a day’s work for the great Jundland witch. I’m just grateful it’s not bloody Sandbat venom.”   
“Do your hands still hurt?”   
“A little, it’ll fade in time.” she rubbed them together, before shifting her weight to kneel again as she took the forceps and tweezers aside, and lit a match under each, burning whatever was left of the plant. She discarded the dying matches into the bowl, letting the flames eat the blood and stings, as she watched on, “Like all things do.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


  
“ _Boba!_ ” Fortuna exclaimed at the sight of the re-helmeted bounty hunter sitting in the armchair, “ _I never expected to meet you here._ ” he gestured vaguely to the cottage around them.   
“The rates are favourable.”   
Sana cut across before Fortuna could respond, “ _State your business Fortuna, why is it that you’ve come to see me?_ ” she had crossed her arms, staying by the door to guide him out the minute he was finished.   
He spun slowly, and chuckled, “ _The Boonta Eve annual pod race is on tomorrow, and His Excellency Jabba the Hutt requires your presence while he presides over the race._ ”   
“ _Why is a Healer a necessary presence?_ ”   
“ _I advise Witch, that you don’t ask questions, and simply do as you’re asked._ ” he pointed his finger at her, before turning it slowly to Boba, “ _Your presence is required too Boba.”_ _  
_ _“_ 30% upfront. _”_ _  
_ The smile etched on Fortuna’s face flickered slightly, _“Of course. Be at the Mos Espa Grand Arena before sunrise._ ”   
Sana couldn’t open the door fast enough for him to leave. She held her head against the door for a moment after she had shut it, allowing her tense shoulders to finally soften and relax before she spun around, “Any idea why I have to go?”   
“I haven’t heard of any disregard towards you, my guess is he has use for a Healer. For what exact reason, I don’t know.”   
She sighed, undoing her veil before rubbing her eyes, “You being asked probably means he expects violence.”   
“Or he wants to show a demonstration of his power.”   
Tired bemusement was written over her face as she raised her eyebrows, “Is there any difference?”   
“No.”

  
  


Even before sunrise the Grand Area was crowded, and Sana had to push through with her elbows to get through to the grand door that was watched by Jabba’s guards. They waved out Fortuna who waved her through, pointing up a flight of servants’ staircase with a sly smile, “ _Top floor, little witch.”_ _  
_ She nodded once, and rushed quickly to get away from him, feeling hot sweat prickle on her back through all her layers as she ran up the spiral stairs. She entered a bustling room, full of servants preparing for their volatile master.   
The top floor was a huge apartment, opening up to a large balcony as a viewing platform. The pillars of cool marble and delicate silks and chiffons made Sana’s mouth drop underneath her coverings, she had never seen anything so grand before.   
“Lothcat got your tongue, little one?”   
His voice made her jump from her reverie, and she held her hands across her waist, hugging herself, as she turned to see him across from her. She cleared her throat, “Any idea what’s going on today?”   
“From what I can gather, just the Boonta Eve pod race.”   
“What even is Boonta Eve? Is it a solar holiday?”   
He cocked his head, a slight chuckle escaping through the vocoder, “How have you been living on Tatooine, and not know what Boonta Eve is?”   
“You don’t have to mock me about it,” she shrugged to roll off the embarrassment settling over her body, “Lahireans live by the lunar calendar, so I don’t know a lot of these holidays.”   
“It’s a commemoration for Hutt victory many millennia ago.”   
“Oh.”   
He walked closer to her, shoulder brushing hers, “Don’t drop your guard, you never know what could happen here.”   
She nodded, “I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you.”   
But he had already disappeared into the growing crowd, she saw him moments later, arm over a dancer. Beneath her veil, she bit her lip and clenched her fists.   
Bastard. 

  
  
  


He kept an eye on her most of the day, his own presence at the occasion as useless as a butter knife in a lightsaber fight.   
He felt he would still be more useful as the butter knife in that situation.   
Sana had situated herself at a small table in the farthest and darkest corner, head down as she debated her next move at a game of holochess with the pink twi’lek from the previous party. Jabba sat on the balcony, presiding the race and laughing as pod racers smashed into stardust for his entertainment. Fortuna would lean in every so often to inform him of a guest that had arrived, and Jabba would wave him away. Too distracted by the carnage of the race in front of him.   
Boba stood leaning against the arch, in view of Jabba and the main room, as his hand rested idly on his bandolier under the cape. The apartment room was bustling and busy, the worst environment to find himself in. Too much coming and going for him to focus on each individual face. He found himself on edge.

  
Something wasn’t right.   
He wasn’t left wondering for long what could be wrong.

  
The race ended, and Fortuna was sent off with a dismissive wave,   
“ _Out!_ ” Jabba’s voice bellowed through the room, and everyone scurried to their feet, suddenly sober with fear.   
“ _Not you, Jundland Witch, you stay._ ”   
The pink twi’lek who had grabbed Sana’s hand, gently squeezed it, and whispered something with a sorry face, before fleeing down the stairs with everyone else. He saw her fist clench a little, before she walked to stand in front of Jabba and bow, “ _How may I assist you, your excellency?_ ”   
“ _Fortuna!_ ”   
The major-domo returned, behind him two guards dragging a man with him, Jabba explained, “ _This pirate has seen it fit to cheat me of my profit, I wish to punish him, and you will heal him as often as I require and until I see fit._ ”   
He watched as her body shook a little, and she nodded, standing aside as the prisoner was brought through. The room filled with screams, Sana’s body flinched with each one.   
With each wave of his hand, Sana would touch down beside the pirate, and heal him quietly as he begged for his demise.   
She would get up silently each time, steadying her shaking hands on her skirt.   
His screams got hoarser, and Sana’s body grew more visibly unstable from exhaustion, but Jabba wasn’t satisfied, “ _Heal him again, witch._ ”   
She bowed her head once, and nearly fell to her knees, reaching out with her hands to the bloodied pirate. He spat and she flinched, a mixture of blood and spit landing on her veil. The guards started beating him again, and Sana recoiled away, unable to get up.   
“I am growing bored of this game. Kill him Fett.”   
Boba aimed the blaster centre head, ending the pirate’s suffering with the pull of the trigger. The body slumped, and silence settled for a moment as everyone looked with sick fascination. “ _You’re both dismissed. Fortuna will give you your payments._ ”

Fortuna threw bags of credits at them but Sana continued to stare at the dead body, unable to get up. Boba lunged forward, snatching her upper arm roughly, “You’ve been dismissed, witch.”  
She bowed shakily to Jabba, and stumbled in his grasp towards the servants’ staircase. Her body collapsed into his as soon as they were out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me stepping outside of my usual writing schedule to forget that I have "I'm gonna fucking die syndrome" (my knee is hurting a little too much) ???  
> Embarrassing.  
> Hope you enjoyed it though.  
> xxx


	11. I'll turn down every hand that beckons me to come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana and Boba question and boundaries of their relationship.  
> TW// More explicit smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> This chapter took a while to write, and is also kind of long, but I think it's worth it in the end. We're just sprinkling in little subplots baby!  
> Please enjoy!

Her hands stung with the heat of blood when she woke up in an unfamiliar cot. 

Sana bolted upright, chest heaving as her eyes darted around her. The metal around her radiated a coolness that soothed the hot skin of her cheeks, and she lay back down to try and get her bearings. Her mind was still too fuzzy from-  
She hadn’t realised she had been crying.   
A familiar band of pressure rested behind her eyes, weighing down her sinuses and trickling dryly down her throat. What had she done?   
The catch of the door realised, sliding open with a quiet hiss.   
“The princess finally awakens.”   
He was leaning on the door, arms crossed, helmet discarded to show a bemused expression, “I thought I was going to be dragging you to Beggar’s Canyon, little one, you slept the sleep of the dead.”   
Sana groaned and placed her hands over her eyes, as Boba silently watched and waited for her response by the door. Her voice finally came out, quiet as a whisper, “I couldn’t save him.”   
“He was dead the minute he was dragged into that room. Don’t dwell on it.”   
“But I was still the one who dragged out his suffering.” hot tears were spilling down her cheeks again, “I took vows to do no harm, and yet _I_ was the one who prolonged his pain.”   
“Well,” he pushed off the doorway and settled at the edge of the cot, back leaning against the wall, “did you know Jabba was going to kill him?”   
“I shoul-”   
“Did you know at the time, yes or no?”   
“No.” she hiccupped painfully, gloves getting damper from her tears. With his head leaning back against the cool metal hull, he stared up at the ceiling, “You healed him so if he was released he would’ve lived. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

He sat silently, staying with her until Sana eventually stopped crying. She worked up the strength to push herself to sit up, staring at him with puffy eyes and damp cheeks, “Why do you help me?”   
Whatever bubbled inside his chest was quickly swallowed down, he shrugged, “You’re convenient.”   
“For what?”   
“You’re a healer, who suits me physically.”   
“Getting tired of dancers?”   
He turned his head to look at her, her lip was quivering slightly and her jaw was tensed, eyes narrowed slightly under knitted brows. He allowed a small laugh to escape, “Is the little witch jealous?”   
She blinked twice, her face still angry and hurt, “Don’t call me witch.”   
“Not a name you enjoy?”   
She shook her head, eyes never leaving his. He leaned forward, grabbing her chin, “Are you jealous, little one?”   
Her nostrils flared and she tried to turn her head, his grip kept her still as he leaned closer so their noses touched, “So you are jealous, little one.”   
She opened her mouth to speak, and closed it quickly again, her hands still planted by her sides twisted into the bedsheets.   
“You want me again, hmm?”   
She reached to grab around the wrist holding her chin, her grip unable to fully encompass his wrist, “No.”   
“No?”   
“No, not-” she sighed, focusing her eyes on his lips, “I don’t don’t want you again, I just- Not now.”   
“So you want me again, but not now?”   
She closed her eyes, “Yes.”   
He let go of her face, and leaned back, “Interesting.”   
She stared at her hands, wringing and twisting them into the sheets, “I’m on my period.”   
“I didn’t ask.”   
“Thought I owed you an explanation.” her voice was quiet, “And, if you want, there’s other things we could do.”   
He raised an eyebrow, “Such as?”   
She crawled out from under the blankets, and kneeled between his spread legs as she looked up at him. He ran his hand over her hair, intertwining his fingers between the braids, “You’ve had a long day, you sure you want to do this?”   
She nodded, taking off her gloves and running her hands up and down his thighs as she shifted her weight, “I just want to forget about it.”   
Her fingers moved forward to undo the codpiece but he grabbed her wrists, and pulled her up, “No.”   
“I though-”   
“You thought wrong.”   
She swallowed, and shuffled her feet slightly, “I’m sorry-”   
“I won’t accept your blowjob while you’re depressed.”   
She frowned, and he pulled her in against the cuirass, letting the cool metal cool down her cheeks. He held her there for a while,   
“I’ll take you up on the offer another time, deal?”   
“...Deal. Boba-”   
“Shush.”   
She nuzzled up into his neck, letting her hands drape over his shoulders as she whispered, “Thank you.”

* * *

Her hair was shorter since he had last seen her.   
It rested on the tops of her shoulders when she had untied it in front of him, the curls more pronounced and defined from the less weight they had to carry. He pulled at a strand in curiosity and it unravelled to her mid-shoulder blade. 

“Ah!” she swatted behind her head to hit his hand, “Gentle, you’re so rough!”

He never said it out loud, but he always got a perverse pleasure from her reactions to him, she was an open book in his hands, every word painted on each movement of her body. 

Instead he simply bit the inside of his mouth to prevent any slip in the façade, and raised his eyebrows slightly, “You’ve liked that previously.”

She turned her head slightly, not quite making eye contact with him as she scratched the back of her neck, “Well, sometimes gentler is nicer.”

She cleared her throat, eager to change the subject as she turned to fully face him, “So are you injured, or is this a social visit?”  
He cupped her chin in one hand, “I came to chase up an offer.”   
Her face flushed a little, “Oh.”   
“The offer still stands?”   
“Yes.” she nodded, licking her lips, “Just, let me lock up. And can you take off your armour this time? I don’t want to have bruises from it again. ”   
“As you wish.” the corners of his lips tugged upward slightly.   
With a small smile, she drifted from her room and down the stairs. Boba deftly started removing the pieces of armour and placing them alongside his helmet and gloves on the dressing table, before he sat on the edge of her bed, and falling to lie his back flat on the soft mattress. He allowed himself to close his eyes, and let his body sink, as he felt the warm house around him, the clean smell of herbs wafted through, and combining with her own gentle sweet scent… 

Sana returned to the room, stopping at the sight of him relaxed on her bed. Sucking on the corner of her bottom lip, she approached slowly, tossing her gloves on the floor as she climbed on top of him and allowed her face to drop down so close to his so their noses touched, “You tired already?”   
He opened his eyes, lifting his hands up to hold her waist, and slowly dragged them to her hips before he pulled her body down as pulled his own body up. She landed on her knees on the ground between his spread legs with a ‘thump’ and a small groan. He smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and tapping her chin so she looked up at him. 

  
Brown eyes stared down into green. Both nearly black with desire. 

She gently ran her bare palms up his thighs, gently sweeping inwards as she reached to dexterously undo the ties of his pants. She pulled him out, her eyes widening a little and mouth dropping a little, she had never gotten a proper chance to look at him before, and though she knew he was big, it still felt intimidating feeling the weight of his cock in her hands. He chuckled, reaching his hand to hold the sensitive part of her jaw so her mouth stayed open, “Think you can take it, little one?”  
She nodded, and leaned her mouth down to gently lick the head, before slowly easing it into her mouth, using her tongue to manipulate the foreskin.   
He locked his hands into her hair, muttering swears between his breaths, Sana looked up to him again, green shimmered proudly as she caressed her hands on his inner thighs and groin, increasing pressure occasionally while she took more of him in her mouth. His breathing got heavier, and he grunted a little when she used her hand to spread her saliva down to the base of his cock, lightly tracing with her fingertips the sensitive areas on the underside. Sana moved him out of his mouth, and tilted her head to lick the underside of his shaft, earning a groan before she returned to suckling the head while continuing to massage the underside and balls.   
He pulled her off his cock, and she stared up at him, smiling slightly through swollen lips and small tears, as she tried to catch her breath, “Is.. a-alright?”   
“No more teasing. Take it all in.”   
She nodded, licking her lips, and moving her hands to hold his hips as she guided him into her mouth. The corners of her mouth stung with stretch as she took more of him, a dull ache settling in her jaw. Her eyes fluttered weeping tears, and she gagged when his head hit the back of her throat, he pulled himself out, tilting his head to look down into her eyes, “Shit, Sana you alright?”   
She nodded, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands, “Let me try again.”   
He wiped drool from her lip with his thumb, and taking her chin in his hand, gently eased himself back into her mouth. She was more prepared this time, not focusing on the pain or the intrusion of him hitting the back of her throat, but on the heat and taste of salt in her mouth, and his breathing above her as he looked down through half lidded eyes. He started gently thrusting his hips forward, and Sana whined around him, earning a smirk as he kept going, “Look at you, so pretty like that.”   
He grunted, his grip on her hair starting to hurt as he kept control of the pace. She kept squeezing his thighs, trying to focus on the pressure there and her breathing, as his thrusts got more intense. She closed her eyes, and he faltered slightly, pulling her head up a little, “Let me see those pretty eyes, little one.”   
She complied, red rimmed and bleary through her tears as he picked up the pace again, chasing his impending release through. Sana’s grip on his thigh tightened.   
“Inside?” he panted, and she nodded a little. He swelled and twitched inside of her, hot, sticky ropes hitting the back of her throat, and Sana choked it down. Boba exhaled, allowing his entire body to relax as he stroked her hair, watching as she swallowed his cum with a flushed face.   
“Good girl, take it all for me.”   
He pulled himself out of her mouth, and she continued kneeling, panting a little and continuing to run her hands over his thighs, as he pushed any spills over her lips back into her mouth. 

After taking a moment to recover, she got up off her knees, using his legs to help push herself up as she turned to go to the bathroom, but he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to sit between his legs on the bed. He kissed that ticklish spot behind her ear, gently nipping at the earlobe as he pinched at her soft waist, “Going so fast?”  
“Got to clean myself up,” she sighed, lightly headbutting him.   
“You can leave it, it doesn’t bother me.” he reached up to start undoing the buttons of her blouse, his warm breath felt like fire against her skin, “Gotta repay you for being so good, hmm?”   
His warm hand slid down her bare chest, and slipped past the waistband of her skirt. Sana gasped slightly, as he rubbed against her through her underwear, his other hand reaching under her undershirt to grope at her breasts. She moaned, when his fingers pressed into that sweet spot through her underwear, and her head rolled forward, exposing the back of her neck for him to graze his teeth against. Her hands held over his forearms, as his hand in her skirt had started to pull down her underwear. 

Three loud knocks echoed against the front door downstairs. 

Sana’s body jumped in his arms, and she pushed his hands away. Boba watched as she she stumbled to her feet, frantically rebuttoning her blouse, “Do you really have to answer that?”  
“Yeah,” she started wrapping her veil around her face, “Healer’s vow, I have to answer to all that call.”   
He opened his mouth to speak, but she was already running down the stairs, undoing all the locks and flinging the door open to find Dengar clutching the side of his face, blood trickling through his gloves,   
“Took you long enough, darling. Sorry to bother you so late, but as you can see I ran into a situation.” he gestured up to his injury. Sana nodded and stepped aside to let him in. 

Boba had retrieved his helmet, relying on the advanced hearing and body heat scans to keep track of everything going on below him from the top of the stairs. His jaw tensed as he picked up Dengar’s continuous flirting, and saw as Sana would nod, saying nothing to entertain his attempts, while her body would stiffen slightly. Her palms gently rested on his face, the heat scan picking up the radiating heat from her hands, as Dengar’s hands twitched to her waist. Sana brushed them off without breaking her spell. Once she had finished, she took a step back, brushing her hands off her skirt, “If there’s any lingering pain, I can give you something to treat it, but otherwise you’re perfectly fine.”  
“Your hands work magic, Lithé.” he reached out to hand her a pile of credits, getting up and puffing his chest out a little, “If you ever want a drink sometime, darling, you just let me know. I’ll show you a real good time.”   
“Thank you.” she nodded quietly, as she guided him out the door. Before he stepped out, he lingered slightly, “I bid you, and your guest, a good evening.”   
  


Sana slammed the door shut, bolting all the locks quickly. Boba stayed at the top of the stairs, arms crossed as he watched Sana come into view. She unwrapped her veil, “How’d he know?”  
“Dengar has cyber enhancements nearly everywhere, including his eyes and ears, he probably picked up my breathing.”   
She walked up the stairs, stopping in front of him on the creaky step with her veil bunched up in her hand, her fingers tapping the side of his helmet, “You getting ready to leave?”   
The slight hurt that tinged her voice wasn’t lost on him. He removed his helmet, letting it rest idly on his hip as he brushed a strand of hair from her face as he smirked, “Not yet, little one.”   
He pulled her close, whispering into her ear, “Ready to pick up where we left off?”   
  


She nodded eagerly, and he pulled her back into the room, pushing her to sit on the bed before he placed his helmet down on the floor. Kneeling in front of her, he started to slowly undo the buttons on the sleeves of her blouse, kissing the exposed skin of her forearms with each undone button while he looked up at her. Sana moved to undo the buttons on the front of her blouse, but Boba pushed her hands away, planting them firmly by her sides before continuing his process with the other arm, “Patience.” he hummed into her skin.   
She let a mixture between a whine and a sigh, pleading to him with her eyes to hurry up. He started at the top of her neck, working his way down to the base of her throat, and lingering his kiss on the dark freckle on the left side. She ran her hands through his hair, pulling him in close to him, and planting her own kisses across his head. He reached her belly button, and she squirmed from the ticklish kisses, as she shrugged off her blouse, discarding it on the floor. He moved back up to suck and nip at her neck as he pulled off down the waistband of her skirt and leggings, moving back to pull them off her legs completely, discarding them with her shirt. She shivered slightly in her underwear, but pulled his face towards her to kiss him. 

He obliged her briefly, letting her nip at his lower lip and lick the groove underneath, before he pulled away, pulling at the strings of her undershirt to free her breasts. He held his hand on the back of her neck, his thumb pressing into the base of her throat, as he dragged his nose down her throat. She gasped and her cool body shuddered as he started to tease the tender tissue of her nipple with small circles from his thumb. His breath was hot on her skin, and she moaned when his mouth enclosed, and lightly licked. He savoured her soft moans while he continued, before moving to give equal attention to the other side. She held her hands around his head, keeping him close to her chest, while her breathing became more ragged. 

  
He moved his head back up, crashing his mouth into hers and teasing her lips between his teeth. He got up and pushed her to lie down, putting his body over hers and swallowing each whimper that left her, as his fingers teased beneath the waistband of her underwear. He slipped further into the heat, chuckling slightly into her mouth,   
“This wet from sucking my cock?”   
She nodded, and whined into his mouth, as the calloused pads of his fingers pressed into that bundle of nerves. He kept her thighs parted by moving his own thigh between them, and slid his fingers down farther between her parted lips, teasing the clenching entrance before moving back up to her clit.   
“Please-” she begged, but he shushed her, teasing “I thought you wanted it more gentle, princess.”   
He pushed two fingers deep inside of her, feeling her clench around him as he curled them in a beckoning motion, stroking a sensitive path while his thumb toyed with her swollen clit. She cried out a little, and he kept going, “Or do you want to be fucked roughly? Hmm? Next time Dengar starts flirting, I’ll just push you over anything, and show him exactly how you come apart for me.”   
She clenched around him again, her cries becoming less controllable and more frequent, “Oh you like the idea of that. Maybe I’ll show everyone, exactly who you give in to.”   
He dropped his mouth right to her ear, “I’ll show them how I own you.”   
Her walls were pulsating around him, she was close and he knew, just as she began to reach the edge, he pulled his hand out of her. Her eyes shot open and she whined, “No, no plea-”   
“Who do you come for?”   
“You, only you, please.” she panted, trying to pull his hand back to her, he drew patterns on her thigh, “Only me?”   
“Yes,” she nodded, kissing and sucking at his neck, “Only you, Boba, ple-”   
He slid his fingers back in, easing up a third, which made Sana whimper loudly and bite into his neck, her hands clawing on the back of his shoulders. He could feel the dull ache of a cramp begin to build up in his hand, but he ignored it, focusing on the sounds she made for him, how good he made her feel. He could feel, and hear, her getting close to the edge again, but he didn’t stop this time, instead increasing his efforts as she started to gush around him. 

  
She lay back, panting and glassy eyed, and he stopped, withdrawing his fingers and earning a groan from Sana before he sat up. He pulled her limp body onto his lap, holding her head up so she’d watch him clean his fingers. She stared with swollen lips, crashing into his yet again, and moaning at the residue of her in his mouth. He held her by her hips, letting her feel how hard he was, and she undid his flight suit, eagerly pulling it off of him and kissing at his exposed neck and chest, hungry to feel his skin on her lips. They managed to shift him out of his flight suit, and he pulled her onto his cock,, feeling her walls flutter and adjust to him. She buried her face into the crevice of his neck, silencing her moans by kissing at the skin as he made her take all of him.   
He held her face so he could look at her, mouth parted to show the chipped canine, and eyes tinged with tears from previous releases, he ran his thumb over her lips and into her mouth and she gladly accepted him. He pulled her hips down, while thrusting up his own, and she moaned, mouth falling open and eyes clamping shut. He removed his thumb from her mouth, and moved it in between their bodies, as he kept up the rhythm. Her hoarse sounds grew as he teased her clit again, and she bit her lip trying to stop the sounds from escaping. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her closer to him, biting at her bruised lips,   
“Let me hear you,” he adjusted the rhythm to the new position of his hands, “ let me hear that I’m the only one.”   
Her sounds filled his ears again, each hoarse whimper, moan and cry reverberating through the shell of his ear, and he felt himself get closer and closer. She finished with a small cry into his shoulder, and he felt her drip around him, walls shuddering as she slumped into him. He held her body into his as he thrusted up a few more times, grunting into her ear before he came.   
  


They stayed like that for a while, bodies slick with sweat, as they tried to catch their breaths. She stiffly started to push off him, but he held her down by the hips,   
“Stay, I want to talk to you.”   
“Feeling conversational tonight then?”   
“You’re satisfied with the sex we have.” Sana was too tired and slow to work out whether it was a question or statement, she nodded, he continued, “As am I. Get the implant, and don’t sleep with other men, in return I won’t sleep with other women and pick up any off-planet supplies you need while I work. Deal?”   
Sana held his face in between her hands, stroking her thumbs over his cheeks and up his cheekbones into his temples.   
“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working between canon and legends material, so Dengar being a flirt kinda just came in. This chapter kinda focuses on their relationship, and how its kinda growing from a one night stand thing.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you guys for all the support you've given!!  
> Also please feel free to give me constructive criticism, smut really isn't my forte but I'm trying to challenge myself, any points are welcome.  
> (P.S. my friend said something to me along the lines of 'You really saw 5 minutes of this man on screen, a nanosecond of which was him tapping someone's chin and went 'wow sir, yes please'???'... She's perfectly right of course but it still hurts to get called out.)  
> (P.P.S should I set up a tumblr to post drafts/sketches and little facts that I've come up with? would people be interested in that?)


	12. God's eye view and the devil's in the details.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Massages, plants and pillow talk.   
> TW// Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a full outline of where this story is going I swear, it's just gonna be a long haul, (maybe another 12ish chapters?) I'm thinking of splitting it up, but I'm still debating.   
> Anyway please enjoy

Boba was gone by the time she woke up in the morning.    
Sana rolled over in her bed, body sweetly aching in the twisted bedsheets which now smelt like him. She hugged them to her chest, littered with his marks, and took a minute to roll her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled to herself.    
  


He had left a small bag of credits on her dresser table, she guessed for the implant as she tried to tie up her hair. She sighed in frustration at the unfamiliar shortness of it, preventing her from wrapping her braids around her head like before. She had taken pride in her hair, took great lengths to take care of it, and took time to intertwine braids and ties each morning.   


But the Lahirean culture of repentance weighed down on her. 

And now she sat, feeling shame burn in her face as it barely brushed her shoulders. The ashes of her cut hair sat in the cauldron outside, burnt as an offering of penance in exchange for forgiveness and understanding from the Great Power.    
She secured the singular braid in a twist at the nape of her neck, still feeling that lump of guilt rise to the surface of her heart from time to time. 

Getting the implant to prevent ovulation didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. Still, the small bar felt intrusive on the inside of her upper arm, the skin around still tender and inflamed as she went to the port market to set up her stall.    
Business trickled through as usual, her few regulars came by to pick up their prescription tinctures, thinking of Sana simply as a solitary medicine woman, rather than a witch, and some traders offered plants in exchange for high prices she had to negotiate down. The twin suns slowly crept to their ascension, their radiating heat building the prickling sweat at the back of her neck as she sat under the shelter of only her hat’s brim.    
Her heart spent the day longing for the cool and damp forests of home, weighing heavy with the fact she wouldn't be welcomed home with open arms. 

* * *

It was two weeks before Boba arrived back on Tatooine, holding a bag under his arm. Sana raised her eyebrows at the burlap sack as she held the door open for him. He stood in front of her as he opened the bag,    
“These are what you typically use for painkillers, right?”   
Sana’s face split into a smile, as she rummaged through, finding ryloth bark and lothal bush leaves, “Yes, these are perfect. Thank you.”    
She pulled the bag from his hands, and took them to the workshop to wash and preserve the precious supplies. She felt his gaze on her as she carefully cut the lothal bush leaves, and placed them on the dehydration rack, “How did you know which ones to pick? All the labels are in Lahir’.”   
“I looked at which jars were nearly empty, and took a sample from each.”   
Sana’s smile grew so much beneath her veil, it nearly hurt, “Well aren’t you innovative?”   
She held the rack and walked past him to the main room, where the fire was crackling, and secured the rack over the heat of the flames. She crouched, carefully reaching through to rotate each leaf, Boba sighed behind her, “You’re gonna burn yourself.”   
“I won’t, I’ve got small hands.”   
“Sana-”   
“Boba, I’ve been doing this since I was a kid, please have some faith in my ability.” she chuckled. Momentary silence passed, until Sana started to hum unsteadily as she rotated the drying leaves, “I got the implant, just so you know, the change is on the dressing table upstairs.”   
“Keep it.”   
“I don’t need it.” she pulled the hot wire rack from the fire, and placed it down beside the fire to cool down. He shrugged, “Then consider it a down payment for any future injuries I receive.”   
“Fine, I’ll enter it into the books tomorrow.” she crossed her arms, and got up, walking over to him and brushing her hand up the cuirass to his shoulder, “Any injuries from your journey?”   
He wrapped his hand around her wrist, “Just the usual aches and pains, nothing more.”   
She tilted her head to the side, “Aches and pains generally aren’t usual, Boba.”   
“Perhaps I need an examination.” his gloves stroked her cheek.    
She stepped closer, rising up onto her tiptoes to try and reach eye level as she murmured through her smile, “Perhaps.”

“I didn’t mean an actual examination, Sana.” he sighed.    
Her hands traced carefully along his vertebrae, kneeling behind him as he sat on the edge of her bed, “You shouldn’t have said you had aches and pain, I get carried away.”   
“It’s just from being old, nothing more.”   
She lightly swatted his bare shoulder, playfully scolding, “Oh hush, you’re not old.”   
“Old enough to have back pain.” he muttered.    
Sana pressed her knuckles in slightly around the base of his spine, making him grunt slightly, “You’ve got a lot of tension here, having you been doing lots of heavy lifting?”   
“I’m a bounty hunter, Sana, it’s nearly part of the job description.”   
“I’m going to try and loosen it out, okay?” she slipped off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, quickly re-emerging with a bottle of oil. 

He felt the bed dip slightly as she knelt behind him again, and rubbed her hands together before she started to rub small circles with her thumbs on either side at the base of his spine. It was uncomfortable, feeling the muscles and tendons unwind, but slowly eased into something more relaxing. He allowed his head to fall forward, and close his eyes, feeling the tension ease out under her touch. She moved up his spine, rubbing acute circles along his vertebrae and up between his shoulder blades, her hand settled onto his shoulders, and she determinedly worked out the stiffness. He sighed, and her hands swept over to the front of his chest, pulling herself closer so her chin could rest on his shoulder, “Better?”   
He nodded, moving his hand up to hold her head in place so he could turn to kiss her. She welcomed his kiss, lips parting easily for him, before she pulled away, trailing her kisses down his neck, and shoulders, moving onto his back. The sweeping kisses lingered over scars, gently licking over the jagged tissue before moving on. He allowed her to continue across the expanse of his shoulders, and down between his shoulder blades, before he pushed backwards, head falling onto her lap. She stared down at him quizzically for a second, holding his face in her hands, before she leaned down to kiss him again. 

Outside a sandstorm had begun to rage. Inside Sana was discarding her clothes, before being pulled into his lap. He let his hands roam over her body, grabbing and squeezing the flesh of her thighs and butt, before pushing her flat against her bed, caging her between his arms while he kneeled in between her legs. He moved back and used his hands to push apart her knees so she’d be open wider for him. Sana gasped beneath him, when he reached in between her spread lips, using her arousal to coat himself as he rubbed his hardening cock. He leaned forward, lining himself up to her, and entered in one deep push. Sana cried out a little, grabbing the sheets around her, as he buried his face into her neck, using one hand to manoeuvre her hips so he could push deeper. 

Each thrust hit somewhere deep inside her, nearly painful and Sana kept squirming beneath him, unsure if she wanted him to stop or keep going.    
“Keep still.” he strained, stopping to grab her hands, and pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, and gripping her thigh so hard she could feel bruises already beginning to form. He kept a strong rhythm, and Sana felt that if he wasn’t holding her down she would’ve been pushed off the bed.    
“Boba.” she whined, shifting her hips up against him to try and get some extra friction against her clit. He pulled his head out of her shoulder, and moved his hand from her thigh to the base of her stomach, fingers slipping down to catch her clit. She moaned, rolling her head back and closing her eyes, clenching around him,    
“Tight little thing, aren’t you?” he rasped, dropping his head low to her ear again, as he thrusted very deep, increasing the pressure of his palm. He stopped a second, and hushed her before she could complain, reaching to pull her hand down to where his own had just been resting. Sana frowned at him, wondering what he was doing. Pressing her palm down with his own, he thrusted deep again, and Sana gasped.    
She could feel his cock up against her palm.    
He laughed at her wide eyes, “Oh, this is something unexpected, little one.”   
She didn’t answer, and his face dropped slightly, “I’m not hurting you too much am I?”   
She shook her head, “K-keep going, deeper.”   
He smiled, licking his lips before running his hand up the back of her thigh, the swell of her ass and settling on the base of her back, using his other hand to steady himself as he pulled her in closer to him as he thrusted deeper. Sana felt full, nearly unable to breathe as he kept going.    
She reached down with her own hand to keep teasing her neglected clit, the combined sensations quickly becoming overwhelming. And soon she was wrapping her arms around his shoulders, burying her face into his neck as her thighs shook. He finished soon after, biting down on her shoulder painfully.    
He sat up back on his knees, and parted Sana’s falling knees to admire his handiwork. 

* * *

  
  
“How old are you, actually?”   
She inquired, scarred cheek resting on his shoulder, his eyes were closed while he held Sana by the waist, “I’m about 33 I think.”   
“So you lived through the Clone Wars?”   
He nodded, sighing sleepily, “Spent some of it in prison, and some of it in my own syndicate.”   
Sana frowned, shuffling further up his chest so her nose rested on his cheek, “Why were you in prison as a kid?”   
“Blew up a Jedi cruiser, took hostages, didn’t handle the mission properly like a stupid rookie.”   
He said it frustratingly yet so normally, almost as if he was talking about something as mundane as mixing up the laundry or burning dinner. Sana used her hand to tilt his face towards her, he cracked an eye open, “What?”   
“Why were you blowing up a Jedi cruiser as a kid?”   
“Wasn’t meant to. I fucked up the mission.”   
“I don’t understand.”    
He reached up to stroke her face, face softening a little, “I’ll tell you about it another time. Go to sleep.”   
She sunk back down onto his shoulder, arm thrown across his waist, as she mumbled through closed eyes, “I’ll hold you to that.”   
His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her into him, “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like you gotta have 100% trust to hear the full story of Boba and his dad.   
> Also did I allude to him having a breeding kink....perhaps.   
> Here is my current timeline that I'm working off of;   
> 32BBY-Boba born  
> 22BBY- Clone Wars start  
> 21.5BBY- Sana born  
> 19BBY- Clone Wars end  
> Currently 1.5-2ABY
> 
> Thank you for reading,   
> and I hope you enjoyed!


	13. Hear the sun move so quietly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba and Sana settle into a routine, but his job threatens the security of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for this weekend!  
> Thank you guys for all the support you guys have given this, it really means a lot to me.  
> I hope you enjoy

“What even is this?”  
He was holding the item away at arms length, offended by it’s fishy smell. Sana tsked at him as she unwrapped the muddy vines from his hand, “It’s just some Gungan pond seaweed, good for the thyroid functions.”   
“You eat it?”   
“You can eat it, yes, but usually it's ground up into a paste and you take one spoonful at each meal.” She explained as she submerged it into a water bath, throwing in pinches of various powders along with it.   
Boba watched as she worked at her little workshop bench, looking every part of the medicinal witch amongst the plants, herbs and jars. With her veil discarded, he could see her brow knit in concentration, and how her lips moved as she mumbled to herself in Lahir’, oddly serious in her focus. It was somewhat endearing watching her work.   
“How was your job?” she chirped, not tearing her eyes away from her bench as she reached into the water bath and began gently squeezing the vines.   
“Client tried to cheat me out of 40% of my pay.”   
Sana stilled momentarily, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “How did that fare for them?”   
“The dispute was settled.” he sighed, “Eventually.”

She never asked him the specifics of his jobs, just if they went well or not, or if he was injured or not. He was grateful for her discretion, another reason their arrangement had worked out well for this past half orbit.   
They had settled into a routine, Boba would depart for his job, leaving for anything between a day and a month, arrive back on Tatooine, and see Sana. They would sleep together, idly conversing. And before he’d leave, she would give him samples of various supplies she needed, he’d scan them into the Slave-1 database and his helmet display would highlight whichever ones he came across.   
  
She finished preserving the vines, and washed her hands, before ambling over to where he stood. With a bright smile glimmering, her hands reached up to undo the helmet catch, and she held the helmet behind her back as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. 

* * *

Another day, another party at Jabba’s that Sana was dragged to against her will.   
She tried to ignore the screams and pleas for forgiveness as Jabba dropped various offenders down to Pateesa. 

She stood on the outside of the crowds, trying to appear invested like everyone else while actually squeezing her eyes shut behind her veil. Sick with feeling the guilt from her complicitency. Boba had always told her not to dwell on it when it bothered her, explaining that Jabba was the one who actively killed them and that she wasn’t in a position to stop him. But still, Sana couldn’t shake the feeling of shameful helplessness as the screams reverberated in her ears. 

The crowd dispersed, and Sana fled to the safety of a quiet corner, knees pressed together and hands folded in her lap while she silently listened as the other people in the booth drank and chatted. 

“Heard Jabba’s still out for Han’s blood.”  
“I’d say he’s already dead, no one’s seen him for over two orbits!”   
“Some say he’s become a commander in the rebel alliance.”   
“Please! Han actively going against the Empire? He’s not that stupid.”   
“Speaking of, the Empire’s bounties on the rebels is gettin’ higher.”   
“No wonder why Fett’s rollin’ in it.”   
Beneath her veil, Sana frowned, she cautiously queried, “Fett works for the Empire?”   
The trandoshan turned to her, too intoxicated to be cautious, “That’s what I heard, don’t know why they’d keep ‘em. With his prices, he’s bleedin’ them dry.”   
A few laughs were barked from the hissed remark, Sana swallowed dryly and tried to choke out her own laugh. From across the table, Astrid tapped her boot with her own, throwing a quizzical look. She just nodded once reassuringly, meanwhile her hands were shaking from squeezing her skirt so tightly. 

  
  


“I think your little witch is angry.” the pink twi’lek whispered in his ear as she passed him to go to the singing platform. Boba waved her away, not paying her any attention, as he scanned the crowds for Sana. She was sitting at a far booth, observing a game of holochess with stiff posture, gloves bunched up into the fabric of her skirt. It was hard to tell if the twi’lek’s statement was true, Sana always looked on edge at Jabba’s, he couldn’t blame her for it. Her covered eyes rose up, meeting his visor across the room.  
The music started up, blaringly loud in his helmet, but he stayed put, waiting for her to make the first move. Some others got up, mingling with dancers and getting drinks, and Sana rose up with them, filtering through the crowds before she slipped out.   
He waited, another song went by, and then he got up, slipping out of the throne room and up the stairs to the neglected veranda.   
Sana was leaning against the railing, veil still on, but the closer he got, he could feel something beneath her skin simmering, reaching boiling point.   
“When were you going to tell me you worked for the Empire?” she barely whispered, accent slurring the words into a hiss.   
Sana was truly angry with him.   
“I work for whoever pays my rates. Doesn’t mean I support them.”   
“The Empire killed my people. Painted us as monsters.”   
He stayed silent, she turned her head towards him, “I heard you can still get paid for peeling the skin off a witch, or burning us, must be a nice incentive for when you want to please your employers.”   
She pushed herself away from the railing, crossing her arms as she stood in front of him, “If they hired you to do that to me, would you?”   
“We can discuss this later, too many eyes and ears here.” Boba turned to walk down the stairs, “Calm down for a minute before you return, don’t let your rage get you killed here.”

He heard her curse him in Lahir’ as he disappeared down the stairs. 

Sana returned later, sitting with her legs and arms crossed, nearly visibly shaking with rage. Astrid slipped next to her, draping her arm over her shoulder and pulling her in, “Men always disappoint us, huh?”  
Sana sighed, relaxing a little under her touch, “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Astrid had picked up the relationship between Sana and Boba quickly, noticing the brief lingering glances, and accidental touches in between the chaos of Jabba’s throne room, or how Boba’s body would tense just ever so slightly whenever another man approached Sana. She managed to coax Sana into explaining the arrangement they held, and kept the secret deep under her own quick, flirty smiles. She knew Boba didn’t trust her, and that Sana regularly defended their friendship, vouching for Astrid’s character constantly. Astrid didn’t care, she knew no one should trust anyone in Jabba’s service, but she did respect Sana. The Jundland witch had saved her tired ass from getting discarded to Pateesa more than once without expecting any payment in return. And for that alone, Astrid gave her her friendship. Shooing away any other men who tried to flirt with her for free treatments. 

“I’ll get us some drinks, a straw for you, and get some people over here, okay? We can watch the latest cock measuring contest while he sulks over in the corner.”  
Sana nodded, and Astrid slipped away, returning with drinks and a crowd as promised. The booth filled quickly, and Sana sipped something burning under her veil through her straw while Astrid squeezed in next to her. An arm wrestling game took place, encouraged by batting eyelashes and the coos of pretty dancers. Sana quickly felt giddy, nearly laughing at the strained muscles and hurt prides of the competitors, who had always boasted about their strength. The game quickly escalated, drawing more of a crowd as it became more and more competitive. A bounty hunter had wiggled in beside Sana, flirting shamelessly as she nodded absentmindedly, her head felt buzzy, and she didn’t notice Boba’s arrival at the table.   
  


He watched from the edge, hearing Sana’s accent slurred from being tipsy as she joked with the man next to her. He was leaning unbearably close to her, wanting to take advantage of her situation.   
Her face moved slightly, and she became quiet, turning to watch the recent competitors strain and shake at the table. She had seen him.   
Bossk nudged him, “Want a go for old times sake, Boba?”   
“Why not.” he muttered, slipping into the booth across from the trandoshan. Astrid was the mediator it seemed, laying down the ground rules and counting down into the game.   
Bossk was strong, and nearly twice his height, there was no denying that. But this was an old game for the two, one among their few pastimes from when they had shared a shell in Coruscant. He knew his weak points, but Bossk equally knew his.   
  


It was the tensest game yet. Sana watched with wide eyes as Boba held his own against the giant trandoshan. Bets flew around the table, Astrid gripped Sana’s wrist under the table, smiling at her as the cheers grew. Both strained with effort.   
No wonder why he was always having aches and pains, Sana thought wryly to herself.   
Jabba bellowed for the dancers, and the booth erupted into a scramble as they slipped and winded out around the competitors and watchers. Astrid gave Sana’s wrist a reassuring squeeze before she climbed atop the table, patting Boba’s and Bossk’s hands,   
“Games over boys, but congratulations- it's a draw! Settle your bets!”   
Both bounty hunters nodded at each other, releasing from the hold at the same time.   
Boba watched as the dancers quickly re-adjusted to their routines, and the crowd around the booth dissipated. The bounty hunter beside Sana, a sly aruzan, settled his hand around Sana’s back. She tried to shrug him off but his hand remained, “How about you and me book a room, hmm? We can bring that pretty pink twi with us, too.”   
“No.” Sana tried to push him away, but he pulled her closer, her head colliding into his shoulder, “Don’t get shy on me little witch.” his hands tried to pull at her veil, “I wanna see that pretty face of yours.”   
From where she stood, Boba could see Astrid’s eyes widen with panic, and she pleaded to his visor silently, he turned, watching with boiling blood as Sana slapped at his hands and tried to push him away, body wriggling desperately, “Quinn.”   
The aruzan turned to him, “What?”   
“You tried to interfere with my bounty on Canto Bight.”   
“So?”   
“You think you can get away with it?”   
The aruzan’s face fell slack, Sana managed to push herself away, nearly catapulting into Bossk, who growled at her.   
“Fett, I-” he stammered, “I didn’t cause any damage to your career in the end, does-does it matter?”   
He leaned in, the aruzan nearly cowering beneath him as he leaned back as far as he can, “Consider this a warning, if you even step on the same planet of any of my bounties again, I will drop a blaster shot right into you.”   
The aruzan gulped, nodded and Boba relaxed his posture slightly, “Run along now, and don’t let me see your face again.”   
He scrambled out of the booth, and Boba pulled a blaster, shooting his left wrist. The aruzan howled, and threw a glare over his shoulder, before retreating into the crowds. Bossk laughed, “Quinn has been getting too bold with his ways lately, would’ve shot him myself had he kept it up.”   
“The new up and coming generation are getting too cocky, they don’t follow the codes.”   
Sana shrunk into her seat, becoming invisible between the two for the rest of the party. 

“You alright?” his voice was hoarse from exhaustion. Sana hung up her cloak and veil, unwrapping her bindings, “Fine. What’s it to you?”  
He sighed, “Sana, p-”   
She spun around to face him, “Did you take part in those purges?”   
“No, they were before I became a bounty hunter.”   
She exhaled shakily, nodding, “Answer the question from earlier.” her arms were crossed again, face hurt as she squeezed her elbows, “If my head was on one of those bounty pucks, would you turn me in?”   
“You won’t be singled out as a boun-”   
“I didn’t ask that.”   
He stepped closer to her, reaching out to hold his hand over hers, “No, I wouldn’t.”   
She stared at where his hand was over hers, bottom lip trembling a little, “Don’t hide those kind of things from me again, deal?”   
Her voice was small and shaky, like she was struggling not to cry.   
He pulled her into him, holding her head close against his armour, “Deal. Now, are you alright?”   
She sniffled, “What do you mean?”   
“Quinn didn’t hurt you, did he?”   
“No, you stepped in at the right time.” she relaxed closer to him, closing her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his torso. His head down onto hers, whispering into her hair,   
“I’ll never let any of them hurt you.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orbit I think is Star Wars lingo for year??? I'm guessing cause rotation=day but you get the point.  
> Also spell checks are such a nightmare for me, half of my laptop keys are stuck, and all the red lines from Star Wars lingo makes my eyes blurry🤦♀️  
> Anyway, thank you for reading, and happy Valentines day!!!


	14. The virtue of the damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana questions her own identity in regards to her faith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i.e. an idiot with religious guilt writes a character with religious guilt

The feeling of warm breath on the back of her neck was becoming stifling. 

The once comforting large arm over her waist and the heat he radiated was becoming overwhelming. 

She felt like she was suffocating. 

  
She wasn’t angry with him, nor did she want to judge him, it wasn’t how she was raised.   
And she did believe what he had said, that he held no loyalty to the Empire.   
No it was something else. Something deeper.   
  
The relationship had made her vulnerable in a way she never had been before. She knew that now.   
What had started out as simple sex, had oddly graduated into something more without them realising it. She noticed his small gentle touches, how he’d close his eyes and breathe her in after being away for a long time. And, she had noticed how she ached to reach out to him, how every night he stayed, she would trace over every scar, planting small kisses over each one to ease any pain they had inflicted on him. How she’d squeeze his hand whenever he was leaving. 

  
And it terrified her. 

  
“Your virtue is a part of you, it’s precious. You can only give yourself away once, and marriage is the safest place to do it.” was what she was always taught, drilled into her by Celesthine, her mother and the headmistress at the old schoolhouse. But she had witnessed otherwise, seen the hollow, empty eyes, the bruises, and the marriage band, like a slaver’s brand, tied to wrists and fingers. Ignored by onlookers because it was an ‘internal matter between man and wife’.   
Sana vowed to herself that she would never let that happen to her. 

  
She would never allow herself to be vulnerable if it meant it could be used to hurt her.   
  
She had cried on the walk home after she had first had sex at the age of 16. It had hurt, she wasn’t particularly turned on by the guy and he didn’t try to help her. A drifting pirate, he hadn’t even learned her name, and she knew he would never see her again. He held no claim over her, and that was what mattered.   
By condemning herself, she finally felt free from the constraints of her own faith.   
So she slept around when she felt like it, bounced from person to person, and basked in the temporary validation of still being ‘desirable’.   
With the burning gaze of shame on her back, she had continued on with her life, finding and seeking out what comforts she could in the hellscape that was Tatooine.   
Whatever sins that she accumulated from her personal life, was going to be between her and the Great Power.   
And each affair would end by her hand. She would disappear, retreating to the safe isolation of the Jundland Wastes, before she could let anyone in to hurt her heart, to hold it captive under a red string like a hangman’s noose. 

But she knew that Boba now held that red noose, tied somewhere to him. The fact that he had kept his jobs from the Empire from her had tightened its hold on her heart. Sharp, and painful with each beat. His apology had eased the pain, but not the pressure of the impact it left.   
  
Lying in the dark, for the first time, she didn’t know what she should do. The realisation that one day he could tug, or pull, or snap at the string, and her heart would burst, bleeding within her so violently that she may not be able to stop it, was scary.   
But this time, she didn’t want to just run away from it. 

Sana rolled over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as she traced patterns into his arm, her consciousness reaching out and expanding across the desert sands. A habit to remind herself how small she was in this universe and the grand schemes of the Great Power.   
She felt banthas lull and groan, the sand people drinking around fire pits, sarlacc pits squealing, and krayt dragons slithering, jawas trundling and babbling. She felt each grain of sand, sharp as jagged glass cut through the air and up towards the sky, grinding down into dust and becoming one within an infinite number.   
Life continued no matter what.   
Always finding a way, no matter what.

She knew, eventually, she would too.  
She retreated her consciousness, feeling the wave pull back in, and allowed it to linger over him. His quiet mind sounded like the tides of a great sea, its rhythm as regular as his breathing, something within him was yearning for someone he had lost.   
Sana closed her mind back up, returning to concentrate on the feeling of his arm beneath her hands. The hot skin, the tickle of dark hair, the catch of scars. How soundly he slept beside her. How she still felt safe in his arms.   
  
Taking a breath to brace herself, she rolled over into him, and reached up to hold his face under her palm. She ran her thumb over his cheek, up to under his eye, up across his temple and into his hair, gliding her hand through as she pulled her face in closer, allowing the tips of their noses to touch.   
He pulled her in closer, his stubble scratching her face as allowed herself to melt into the heat of his body. She allowed herself to simply bask and enjoy in the warmth, and comfort he provided her, and to be vulnerable to the possibility that one day this could end.   
She held out her heart between them, still beating strongly through that red string. 

* * *

  
The sweet smell of baking wafted through the air.   
Boba turned over in the bed, confused when Sana’s cold body didn’t immediately curl up into his. He sat up, groggy eyed, to find he was alone in bed. Her absence made its emptiness feel as vast as deep space. His hand briefly ran over where she usually lay, the sheets cold. Downstairs he could hear the faint hum of her weak singing.   
He closed his eyes, letting the gentle domesticity fade into him, as he took a moment to honour those who had passed. A daily ritual to honour father.  
He leaned on the doorway that led to the kitchen, watching as she crouched beside the small oven, wearing her nicer green dress with the slightly puckered seam on the sleeve. She pulled out a tray with a loaf of golden bread, twisted into a plait.   
Despite her usual poor culinary skills, he couldn’t deny that the bread smelt good.   
She held out the tray to present it to him, beaming with her chipped tooth and crinkled up eyes, clearly proud of her own work, “Ta-da!”   
“Looks good, what is it?”   
“Celebratory bread.” she answered as though it was the most obvious thing, placing the tray on the counter, “Take one end.”   
Hesitantly, he followed her instructions, and she took the other end, pulling so the bread tore apart and the hot steam from its centre rose to the ceiling. She knocked her half against his in a cheers motion before taking a bite, and he copied her.   
The bread was soft and airy, and mildly sweet. Sana smiled up at him as they chewed, the vulnerable calm restored between them, “Happy new year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely believe that Sana made challah bread, because we'd always have it at home during celebrations, and it just holds a special place in my heart???? Very self indulgent detail I know.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed, and thank you for reading!!!  
> (Also the idea of virtue and virginity are fucking gross 100% but a part of this chapter was very much like therapy so sorry for that, I don't condone the message or even Sana's approach to it, just wanted to give an insight to her.)


	15. As the future unfolds, I'll leave the past and turn to gold.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares, spells and intimacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was just a flow.

_ There was so much gunfire, the whirring blurs of lightsabers, but his eyes; big, young and bright were focused only on the blue and silver armour in the centre of that ring. Cries rang out, his ears rang, and part of him wanted to hide, but his eyes remained fixed on the back of his father’s head.    
With a flash of purple, it was no longer there.  _

He was aware that he was sitting up, chest heaving, and sweat trickling down his back. But he couldn’t process it.   
Slowly, the light weight of her hand on his arm came into focus, her soft, hoarse whispers broke through the ringing, “Boba?”   
He screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing, as he placed his other hand over her own. He felt her kiss his shoulder, lips too soft against his skin. He brushed her hand off and pushed himself out of her bed, “I’m fine, Sana, it was just a dream. Go back to sleep.”   
Boba stumbled to her bathroom, splashing his face with cold water, and bracing his hands on either side of the sink, letting the cool water run off him. His heart was thudding in his ears, his chest felt tight and constricted, and Boba desperately grasped at the strings of his composure. A cool hand was flat against his back, gently rubbing circles and a gentle hum filtered through the rush in his ears. His breathing slowed, and he began to hear his own panting as the pulsing in his head died down. Sana pressed a glass of water into his hand, gently guided it towards his mouth, free hand holding the back of his head lightly as she kept humming.    
He clung onto the feeling of her skin against his own, and the uneven tune she produced as he greedily gulped down the water. Wanting to feel grounded again.   
“Do you want to talk about it?”    
He shook his head, and shakily slammed the glass down, feeling her flinch beside him. He reached out to squeeze her hand apologetically, she squeezed back, her other hand returning to rub his back, “Do you want to come back to bed?”

He hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on when he had stumbled through, a sliver of moonlight had peaked through the heavy clouds and shone through the bathroom window, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the worried knit of her eyebrows, and how her eyes seemed nearly watery. She was shivering out of bed, despite it being a warmer night for Tatooine. 

She squeezed his hand twice, “Boba?”   
“Yeah, back to bed.” he finally yawned, allowing her to guide him back to the soft sheets of her bed. She pulled him so his head just rested under her chin, her hands wrapped around him to stroke soothing patterns on his back and shoulders. He instantly wanted to resist against it, but found his body betraying him, sinking further into her skin, melting into her.    
Her deep breathing reminded him of days long past, gazing out at the Kaminoans riding aiwhas through the waves, the white walls, the place that had been home.   
“You can show me if you want.” her voice finally broke the sleepy silence between them. He pulled his body up, holding the back of her neck as he leaned his forehead against hers,    
“You can look into my memories?”   
“I think I can, if you want me to, that is.” her hand reached up to stroke the back of his hair. Boba took her hand in his, feeling in the darkness to place small kisses on her knuckles. Something about lying with her in the dark, feeling as though they were the only two in the universe at that moment, it made him want to trust her, to bestow that to her, “I want you to.”   
Her lips collided with his nose, and she slipped out underneath him and out of the bed. Left alone in the darkness, his hand drifted over the remaining warmth her body had left; his heart still felt too strong against his ribcage, but he felt the fringes of his composure slowly knitting back together.    
Sana returned, candle in hand as she knelt on the bed beside where he lay, the orange-golden light illuminating her face for him to see, “Take some deep breaths, and focus on what you want me to see.”   
Boba closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and holding it in. He felt the small sting of a prick on his thumb, and the ticklish feeling of a paintbrush on the palm of his hand, as he slowly exhaled. Feeling the weight of her palm against his, her whispers of spells slowly drifted away. In his mind’s eye, he was back on Geonosis, chaos and confusion. But he didn’t want to show her that horror. He didn’t want to show her pain, suffering, and sadness. He didn’t want her to only see his father by his death. 

Slowly, he allowed himself to be engulfed by days long past, ones deeply buried in his mind. Of times his father had held him tight to his chest after he had gotten home from a long hunt, or how he had sat on his lap on the ship, feeling enamoured by the stretch of the galaxy outside the window. He recalled days of playing starships and mandalorian warriors with his father on the ground of the apartment, of being carried through the air, of bedtime stories filled with excitement and heroics. Boba remembered sparring sessions, how his father would always over-act the damage Boba’s moves would’ve caused, lying on the ground and groaning theatrically as Boba would collapse into fits of giggles. Days of creating their own language at the dinner table. How each night when Jango had tucked him in, he would rest his hand over his head. How his smile would warm up his father’s hardened face, soft and genuine through the lines of age and a hard life. 

“A father couldn’t be more proud of his son, Boba.”

It was fuzzy, and warm, feeling like his mind was being wrapped in a soft blanket, not quite in reality or outside of it.    
The first thing to come back into focus was the hot prickling feeling on his palm. Not uncomfortable, but not quite pleasant enough that he’d want to experience it again. The second thing to come into focus was the slight sniffling from Sana. He felt a damp cloth gently wipe at his palm, and finally opened his eyes, the candle resting on the bedside table casted her face in half light, enough to see the wet tear tracks on her cheek. She smiled at him, her crinkling up eyes spilling out more tears,    
“Your father really loved you, Boba.”

He pulled her down to him, resting his head against hers, “I know.” 

  
  
  
  
  
“I’m leaving Tatooine for a job next rotation.”   
Boba watched from the door frame as Sana was crouched down beside her plants, eyes not leaving the small bush of herbs as she watered them, her throat bobbed slightly, before she sniffed slightly as she turned to face him, “Good hunting then.”   
“It’s an Empire job, track and seize a Rebel pilot somewhere ‘round Ord Mantell. Should be back within five rotations give or take.”   
She held the watering can in her hands, as she stood up, crossing the humid greenhouse to meet him. One of her hands slipped into his, and squeezed tightly, “Come back safe, promise?”   
“Promise.”   
  


* * *

“Slave-1, run ship diagnostic.” he ordered as he walked up the ramp, still body thrown over his shoulder.    
**“Ship’s fuel stores are below 30%, hyperdrive functional, main hull still retains pressure integrity, life support systems operational, no repairs required Boba Fett.”** **  
** Boba cursed himself for not ordering a refuel while he was out, as he slung the rebel bounty into their cage, “Slave-1 implement security measures when I disembark.”    
**“Security measures implemented, Boba Fett.”** the AI reported as he disembarked the craft, he strode to the nearest mechanics shop, sliding over credits to the cowering mechanic, “I need my ship refuelled, Firespray-31-class.”   
Several pit droids scrambled to duty at the call of the mechanic, and Boba crossed his arms while he waited. The mechanic’s mouth opened once or twice, shutting before any words could get out as they continuously wrung their hands. Boba was aware of the effect he had on people, a legacy bestowed onto him by his father. It didn’t bother him per se, but it did make it easier to pretend he wasn’t human in the past.   
Bounty Hunting was a complicated profession, walking a grey line between concepts like good and bad. He did bad things, he knew that, he killed and maimed and intimidated. But in his experience, innocent people typically didn’t get bounties placed on their head. Not at his price range.    
You had to have a reputation to succeed in his profession. And it was easier to play into that reputation. So the reputation of the vicious and cruel Boba Fett meant that Boba had allowed himself to become exactly that- vicious and cruel. It made his life easier, as all he had done was worked. Rarely taking breaks.    
But now things were different.    
The increasing need to feel something warmer had begun to eat away at him before he had met Sana. He had passed it off as a passing fixation, and when it had initially satiated, he nearly felt like his old, comfortable state of self again. But the more time he spent with her, and the closer they had become meant that things within him were starting to change. And surprisingly, he didn’t feel opposed to it, he knew his father probably had a similar situation when he was born.    
For one of the first times in a long time, he felt that he could trust himself to be open with someone.    
And though it might not last forever, a painful lesson this galaxy had taught him at a young age, he knew he was more capable of protecting the small slice of light that had made its way through the darkness, and into his own life.

  
He wouldn’t be parted so painfully from it this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Age of the Republic Jango Fett, and that one where he stays behind on Kamino to play starships with Boba.... Yeah that was the chapter inspiration.   
> Will we ever dive deep into Lahirean witchcraft??? Hopefully!   
> Essentially, Sana paints a little temporary eye of life on his palm to perform blood work craft like she did with Celesthine, hence why she has to put her entire palm over his hand instead of just a thumb like last time.


	16. So come inside and be with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twisted ankles, baths and smut.  
> TW// Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from 'Once more to see you' by Mitski.  
> Everyone time to do the Mitski shuffle!

“ _The harvest wasn’t good this season, so we gave you some sandbat venom._ ” the sand woman explained to Sana, as she handed over a heavy basket. Sana signed back, throat burning slightly from the vocalisations, “ _You’re too kind. Thank you._ ”

She traded over her own basket, and the sand woman lifted its cover to inspect the contents, after a moment she nodded, “ _All here. Thank you.”_ _  
_Sana pushed herself up from her knees, crouching as she picked up the heavy basket. The sand woman watched her silently, initially her distant dealings with the woman had unnerved her, but Sana had become used to black strip where her eyes were, probably after months of being watched by Boba’s visor.  
“ _Happy harvest, I hope you and everyone else keeps healthy and safe.”_ Sana awkwardly said as she balanced the basket on her hip, she threw her hand up into a wave, “ _Goodbye!”_ _  
__“Goodbye, Jundland witch!”_ the sandwoman called back, as Sana exited the tent.  
A few little wrapped heads peeked out, Uli-ah, Sana waved at them as she departed, trudging out into the vast dunes of the desert. 

It was hot out, and a warm wind blew sharp sand into her own wrappings. Sana groaned, wanting to be home and in her bath as soon as possible. She tried to focus on more positive things as her boots sunk into the sand with each step. Boba would probably be back on Tatooine soon, and she was eager to see him again, she guessed he’d be at hers by nightfall like usual.  
Just as her mind started to drift to what he would do to her, she misstepped, tumbling down the dunes with a shriek. Hot sand made its way into her head wraps, and down her gloves and boots with each roll, slicing into her skin. Sana choked as the hot grit made its way into her throat. Her momentum finally died, and she lay on her back staring up at the suns, spluttering and cursing.  
Pain was shooting up from her ankle, and she tried to rotate it, an effort that made her hiss and whimper. Sana desperately tried to spit sand out of her mouth, while reaching down to rub and manually turn her ankle. The pulsing was spreading up her leg. And she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push past the pain as she kept trying to rotate and encourage the blood flow.  
She hated that she couldn’t heal herself.  
She had tried, to no avail. When she had asked Celesthine why, Celesthine had reminded her of the Lahirean witches’ commitment to selflessness.  
Sometimes, she really hated being a witch.  
Sana got on all fours and retrieved the now bruised black melons, and luckily unharmed vials of sandbat venom. Leaning on her basket, she managed to get back up on her feet, and settled the basket in front of her as she slowly started to hobble home. Wincing with each bit of pressure on her ankle. 

* * *

The suns were starting to set by the time she was nearly home, tired, ankle throbbing and dehydrated. However much she had wanted her bath earlier, the want had only increased over the long journey. The familiar swoop tucked away behind the battered speeder, sent a bubble of relief through her. Boba was leaning against it, arms idly crossed, and helmet tilting when he saw her dishevelled state. With a few strides he was over to her, taking the basket from her before she nearly fell into him.  
“Tripped over my own feet, and twisted my ankle.” she mumbled the explanation into his armour. She could hear him lightly snort through the helmet, “You’d think the Jundland witch would be able to walk across the sands she lives on, no?”  
“Ha, ha.” she said through clenched teeth as he helped her to the door, returning for the basket while she started unlocking the bolts. She stumbled into her home and fell onto the ground, throwing off her wrappings and boots and shaking out the sand outside the door. Boba returned, shutting the door, before removing his helmet, his face an odd twist between bemused and concerned, “You need anything?”  
“Water, please.” she sighed, shrugging off the rest of her outerwear. Boba strode to the kitchen, and Sana used the wall to balance herself as she pulled herself up. He returned moments later, letting her lean on his arm for support as she greedily sipped at the water, gasping for air slightly when she was done. Boba took a moment to brush his thumb over a scratch over her nose,  
“Why can’t you just heal yourself?”  
She hopped towards her stairs, unsteadily lowering herself to sit on the steps, “Something about ancient commitment to selflessness to the Great Power, prevents us from helping ourselves.” she muttered bitterly.  
She pulled her foot onto the bottom step, and pressed her knuckles in on either side of her ankle, eyes screwing shut and inhaling sharply. She whined a little when she started rubbing small circles in. She heard Boba walk away, and then come very close to her, feeling him crouch in front of her, something hard pressed against her mouth.  
“Chew.”  
Sana snapped her eyes open, to find him pressing ryloth bark to her mouth, she gladly accepted it, holding it between her two hands as she nibbled at the acrid bark, while he began replicating the massage notion on her ankle. Her nose wrinkled up from the uncomfortable pressure, as the circulation regulated and tendons unwound and relaxed.  
“This feels odd.” she eventually admitted.  
“So you look after else, but no one gets to look after you?” he raised his eyebrows, increasing the pressure slightly. 

Sana shrugged, not wanting to answer, “How was work?”  
“The usual,” he sighed, “Resolved eventually. I’m getting old, I forgot to order a refuel of Slave-1.”  
“Slave-1 is your ship right?”  
He nodded, “Firespray-31-class patrol and attack craft from Kuat.”  
She blinked a few times, “I understand. I think.”  
“I’ll show you around it sometime.” he moved the pressure further up her leg a little. Sana shook her head, “Lahirean healers and ships don’t work together.”  
“How so?”  
“We ground ourselves by living things, and up in space where there is none, well,” she fixed her gaze to her lap, “I… I spent my last time in space constantly vomiting.”  
Boba laughed. Sana jumped nearly from the sound of it, he patted her knee, eyes wrinkling up and teeth on show, “You get jumpspace sickness?”  
Sana frowned, taken aback by how he found humour in this, “Yes?”  
“You’ll have to fix that, little one,” his laughter had died down to a chuckle, “Space is something extraordinarily beautiful. You need to appreciate it at least once in your life.”  
“I’ll put it on my to-do list.” she pushed herself up, “But right now, I need to wash.”  
Before she could react, he had swooped her up in his arms, she scrambled to cling on to his neck as he started walking up the stairs, “Boba, what are you doing?”  
“You can barely walk. How were you gonna get up the stairs?”  
“Crawl, maybe.”  
“That would’ve been a sight.” he muttered, and she lightly swatted at his shoulder.  
He lowered her back to her feet by her bath, giving her a moment to find her balance before letting her go. Sana heard him go back down the stairs as she shrugged out of her clothes, discarding them in a pile on the floor before turning on the faucet and climbing in. Her body shivered from the exposure, but slowly relaxed into the rising, warm water. She reached out of the tub, picking up the bath oil and drizzling it into the water while swishing it through with her other hand.  
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled slightly, and she turned her head to see Boba leaning on the door, armour discarded, “How’s your ankle?”  
“Much better, I could make a healer out of you yet.”  
“Doubt that, somehow.”  
“Nonsense, you could be fixing and setting bones by next lunar cycle.”  
“I’ll keep it in mind whenever I want a career change.” he sighed, crossing over to crouch beside the tub. Sana tugged at his flight suit, “Want to join me?”  
“Tempting, but another time perhaps.” he smirked, reaching out to run his thumb over her pouting bottom lip, “What do I get for all these scratches?”  
“The pale pink salve up there.” she pointed to the wooden cabinet above the sink. Sana watched him, as she shifted her body, draping her arms across the edge of the tub and resting her chin over her folded hands. Boba sat in front of her, scooping up a generous amount of salve, and holding her chin between his fingers as he gently rubbed the product over the multiple sand scratches. A cool tingling settled over the stinging hot skin, and Sana sighed, relaxing into his touch. Scooping up more salve, he turned his attention to her hands, and forearms, examining the red irritated skin, and gently applying more product. It’s sharp and clean, menthol scent filled Sana’s nose. Oddly comforting with its promise of instant relief.  
“You falling asleep on me?”  
“Not quite.” she mumbled, “Just feels nice.”  
His thumb swiped at her chin and settled holding her jaw, Sana leaned her cheek further into his touch, a content sigh escaping her lips.  
“What do all these marks mean?”  
His fingers ghosted over the runes, Sana didn’t open her eyes, nuzzling into his warm palm, “It’s the rune of the rising and setting moon, means I’m connected and in-tune to the flows and cycles of all living things.”  
“Sounds tiring.” he mumbled, bringing his lips to rest over the indented skin, tongue ticklishly tracing over each component. Sana felt her body shudder, letting her arms glide over his shoulders and pulling him closer. He complied, letting his hands roam over her back as he dragged his mouth down to her lips. Each gasp, each breath and moan was swallowed by the other. The kiss grew more desperate, more sloppy, Sana’s lips trailing down to his chin and along his jaw, his lips moving up to kiss between her knitted eyebrows. Her skin felt soft, and his lips tingled from the leftover salve.  
Her hand tangled into his hair, and she chuckled, bringing her nose back to touch his, “You need a haircut.”  
“Thinking about shaving it.” he mumbled, dark eyes soft, as his fingers tangled into her hair, unwinding it from it’s braids so it fell to her shoulders. Sana’s nose wrinkled, and she shook her head disapprovingly, “Please, don’t.”  
He combed through her hair, fingers travelling down her back, into the water, and resting on her tailbone, “Water’s cold, wanna get out?”  
She nodded, her forehead bumping into his, before he pulled away. Sana pulled the plug, her body shivering as she cautiously climbed out. She was hesitantly testing the strength of her ankle, when her body was engulfed in a towel, his chin resting on the top of her head as he patted her dry.  
“You’re having too much fun playing healer.” Sana muttered, teeth chattering. His lips pressed onto her hairline, “Humour me.”  
Sana reached up, thumb running over his cheek, “Just this once, then.”

Her body was shivering beneath his, fingers curling into his bicep and moaning as he bit down on her lip. His knee was pressed between her thighs, and her hips involuntarily jolted against him, body erupting and burning from the sensation. Sana’s face and neck felt hot and flushed from his kisses, his hand burning where it cupped the back of her head. Her lips felt swollen, and all she could taste and hear and feel was Boba.  
His hot mouth moved down, trailing down her throat, sucking on her clavicle, and trailing to her breasts, teeth grazing over the tender nipples, tongue trailing over the bumps of her expanding ribs. It was hot, and ticklish, and her body writhed beneath him, feeling too aroused to get a grip on reality, moving instinctively to spur him on. She desperately needed him.  
His teeth grazed over the silvery patch of stretch marks on her hips, his hands holding and squeezing at her waist. Sana pulled one of his hands up to her breasts, groaning as he ran his calloused fingertips over the sensitive skin. She could feel him guiding one of her legs over his shoulder, and she grew wetter with the feeling of being exposed to his breath over her. Kisses, teeth and tongue stung at her inner thigh, tantalising moving up and up. She wiggled her hips up to meet him, breathing hitching as he drew closer. His arm moved down from fondling her breasts to sling across her stomach, pinning her down as he spat on her exposed cunt. His fingers travelled up her thigh, and started swiping through the slicked folds as she whined. He pushed a finger into her, as his tongue dragged up. Sana’s back arched, and she gasped. He kept going, sucking on her clit and working up a second finger, curling and beckoning her release as she writhed beneath him.  
He hummed into her, the vibrations of it coaxing a small cry from her throat.  
“Making such pretty sounds for me.”  
The excruciating burning pleasure was building up; the sharp feeling of stubble prickling into the most sensitive part of her body, his thick fingers stretching and stroking against that tender part inside her, the nearly blinding feeling of his tongue swiping circles on her clit. All it took is the feeling of the edge of his teeth drawing across the bundle of nerves for her to come undone.  
She could barely hear anything, pleasure flowing over in waves as he kept going, slick fingers kneading into her thigh as his tongue pressed up into her, devouring her while moaning.  
She was shaking, tears running down her cheeks as she wove her fingers through his hair. Her hips were jumping with each sharp sensation of his nose rubbing against her clit, and his arm tightened his hold on her, keeping her still as he kept going.  
Sana’s throat was becoming sore from each sound she made, thighs shaking around him as she came again. He swiped his tongue back up to her clit, sucking on it again. It felt amazing and painful as she felt her body building up to burst again.

She groaned, pushing at his arm,  
“Too,” she was panting, brain fizzled out and struggling to grasp at the words, “Too much. Bo-”

He pulled away, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he climbed up her body, panting to catch his breath, “Writhing like a lothcat in heat beneath me.” 

She pulled his mouth to hers, pulling her shaking thighs to wrap around him, and moaning as her body still pulsed from the aftershocks. His hand cupped and pressed into her breast, rubbing his thumb over the oversensitive nipple making her whine, “Sensitive little thing aren’t you?”  
To further prove his point, he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his mouth, tracing his tongue the rune causing her to shudder and moan beneath him. He smirked, landing soft kisses over the skin.  
“Cock-dumb before I’m even in you?”  
She nodded, pushing herself up onto her elbows, “Bo… please, just want to feel you, please.”  
“Can’t even say my name properly.” he teased, kissing the tip of her nose while lining himself up to her, “I’ll let it slide if you keep sounding so pretty.”  
Her head rolled back, and she whimpered, feeling like she couldn’t breath as he pushed slowly into her. Her arms wrapped around his waist and shoulders, holding onto him as he snapped into her again and again. Arms brace either side of her, and forehead pressed against her own, Boba dominated and filled each and every sense. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Her tired body betrayed her, shuddering and convulsing around him, as her mind went blank and mouth fell open. He took the opportunity to hold her jaw open, spitting inside her mouth. She whimpered as she swallowed, watery eyes smiling up at him. He cursed as he came, lips pressing against her temple and eyes screwed shut. 

They stayed still for a moment. Sana could feel the lewd wetness dribbling out of her, down her butt and smearing her legs. His lips still pressed against her temple, he kissed her, before pulling out of her, smearing her body more with their cum. He moved down so he could rest his head over her chest, nuzzling into the soft tissue of her breasts and feeling her heartbeat against his ear. Sana caught her breath under his comforting weight, holding him against her body. 

Moonlight shone through the window, basking his warm skin in it’s silver light, his face relaxed as her fingers combed through his hair. She tilted her head to kiss the crown of his head,  
“You look very pretty under the moonlight.”  
He grumbled something unintelligible into his skin, and she chuckled, feeling the gentle heat rise in his cheek against her chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I realised it's nearly a month ago since I started writing thing, and I just want to say thank you to everyone who's read and supported this story, it really means a lot for me. 😚😚😚


	17. Until the stars don't shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise is instore for Sana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very soft chapter, but it's sweet.   
> And that's what I wanted to write.

She really was a restless sleeper.    
Sitting on the edge of the bed after he had pulled back on his suit and armour, Boba observed her for a moment, head cocked to the side as she held a nonsensical one sided conversation behind closed eyes. She sat up momentarily, before flopping face first back onto her pillow, hair knotted, and fanned out dementedly, as she huffed in her sleep.    
Sana’s sleep antics weren’t that usual, and if he ever found himself caught beside her during them, he would just sit up and pat her head until she would calm down, mildly annoyed but also a little bemused. Whenever he was more awake, he would quietly observe. Picking up the familiar name of Seryozha occasionally, through the mumbled Lahir’, put more often he heard ‘ima’. He wondered what it meant. 

* * *

Sana woke up alone, the side of the bed that he usually occupied was cool when her hand swept over it. She rubbed at her eyes hard enough to see stars, and her body groaned as she rolled out of bed. Across in her dressing table mirror, she could see the bruises he left that trailed down her jaw, throat and clavicles, she traced her fingertips over them briefly before stumbling to the bathroom.    
She was trying, with no avail, to fix the battered speeder outside when Boba returned. She squinted at him through her wraps, “Did you have work?”   
He nodded once, peering over her shoulder into the worn engine, “Local job. Resolved quickly. What did you do to your speeder?”   
She shrugged, her frustration building from the uncooperative speeder, “Stupid thing’s broken yesterday, and because of that I had to walk to talk with the sand people and that’s why I fell down the bloody dunes.”    
He sighed, taking away her spanner, and leaning forward into the engine, “You’re fuel stores are rusted. And the ignition box is fried.”   
“Is that repairable?”   
“By an actual mechanic-yes. Your Lahirean healing skills and frustration, however, won’t help it.”   
Sana huffed, half sitting on the edge of the speeder and crossing her arms, “I’ll drag it into town next market day, it’s long overdue a decent repair anyway.”   
He shut the engine hood, leaning against it beside her, “Are you able to leave?”   
“What do you mean?”   
“Are you able to leave Tatooine? For a rotation, maybe.”   
“I could, technically, but…” she trailed off, starting to interlock and twist her fingers through her gloves.    
“But?” he chased.    
“Jumpspace sickness.”   
“You get jumpspace sickness because you can’t ground yourself by anything living?”   
She nodded, he continued, “Sana, I’m living.”   
“I’d have to hold onto you the entire time then.”   
He shrugged, “Doesn’t bother me. Grab your cloak, and lock up.”   
Sana followed his instructions, grabbing her warmest cloak, a small bag of credits, and securing her small curved blade to her waist. She turned her head slightly to face him, as she locked up, “Where are we going?”   
“Patience.” He guided her arms to loop around his neck, wrapping his own tightly around her waist, and pulling her flat to him. “Now hold on.”   
Before she could even ask, her feet were no longer on the ground, and her ears filled with the loud roar of the wind rushing past her, and the jetpack. She scrambled to cling onto him, squeezing her eyes shut as they flew through the air. Her stomach did flips, and she concentrated on the fact that she was holding onto him, and that he was holding onto her. 

By the time they landed, Sana felt that she could fall to kiss the familiar sand beneath her. She heard his slight snort of laughter as she wobbled on her feet, his hand holding the back of her waist to steady her,    
“Got your bearings?”   
She nodded, stomach still fluttering and nauseatingly light, “Please give me some warning next time.”   
“I’ll keep that in mind.” he guided her by the waist up a walkway.    
  


The cool metal of the hull surrounded her, lifeless and impersonal, and she suppressed the urge to shudder as she was led to the cockpit. Boba motioned for her to sit in the left co-pilot seat, crouching to help secure the belt strap, even though she didn’t need him to. Adjusting the seat forward and closer to the pilot seat, he removed his helmet, and slid into his seat, reaching out to flick various switches. The engine hummed to life around her, and she looked out to see the scenery slowly sink and disappear. The cockpit rotating to keep straight.    
Sana exhaled a little shakily, wrapping her cloak tighter around her. His left hand reached out to rest on her leg, and she quickly reached out to hold it between her own. Focusing on how his hand nearly dwarfed hers, as the ship stilled high up in the air, before lurching forward. Sana had squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of holding his hand, and the life it provided her. She pushed off her own gloves, and pulled off his, desperate for a more secure reassurance of life in the vast emptiness surrounding her. 

  
“Feeling alright?” his hand in her lap squeezed hers.    
“Yeah.” her voice was a little weak, so she squeezed back to try and reassure him, “Just a little light-headed.”   
“I’m entering in the coordinates to enter jumpspace, so hold tight a second for me, alright?”   
She nodded, rubbing circles into his knuckles. Focused on the scarred tissue beneath her fingertips, and the heat his hand emitted, as Boba was flicking various switches, and pressing various buttons, before pushing a lever forward. The screen in front of them blurred white before they were charging forward into a tunnel of swirling blue. Sana cautiously looked up, mouth falling open a little.    
“Beautiful.”   
He turned his head to her, pushing back his seat to stand up, “We’ll be exiting in a while.”   
“Where are you taking me?” Sana carefully undid her belt, her hands still clutching on to his.    
“It’s a surprise.”   
“Surprise?”   
“Patience. How you feeling?”   
“Pretty okay, I think.” she frowned, looking at the pilot console and layout of the cockpit, it seemed familiar, “Boba, was this the ship you showed me in your memory?”   
His eyes softened a little, the blue light of jumpspace bouncing off his pupils, “It was one of my father’s legacies that he left me. He taught me how to fly and take care of it, and involved me in all it’s modifications to keep up with new ship models.”   
“Modifications?”    
He pointed to the sides of the cockpit, “The original ship design was pretty obsolete to begin with, so we added whatever was needed to make it more effective. The biggest one being the installation of the gyro system. Back when I was a kid, the cockpit was completely imobile, you had to climb in and lie flat on your back to take off. Not very effective if you need to get away fast.”   
Sana nodded slowly, taking it all in, “Do you not have a droid to help with maintenance?”   
“Slave-1 has an AI system, it runs regular scans and reports them back to my helmet. I can also give instructions directly to it, even if I’m offboard.”   
“Sounds complex, I think. It’s a lot bigger on the inside than I thought it’d be.”   
“That’s what makes it an asset. That, and well, it’s recognisable.”   
The underlying context of that statement was quickly brushed off as Boba cleared his throat, “We should be exiting jumpspace soon.”   
“I get to see my surprise then?”   
He nodded, settling back into the pilot’s seat, “That’s the plan. Close your eyes.”

  
Sana frowned a little, hesitantly complying. The steady buzz of jumpspace fizzled out into nothing. She heard controls being flicked, and felt the drifting come to a halt. Biting on the inside of her cheek, Sana continuously traced her fingertips over and around his fingers and knuckles to try and calm the blind panic that settled in the pit of her stomach. Boba reached over to undo her belt, before his hand moved up to cover her eyes,    
“Stand up, and turn around.” his voice was oddly soft against the endless vacuum of space that surrounded them. Sana cautiously did as she was told, walking with him blindly through the ship   
“Boba, what are you doing?”    
“Patience, nearly there.”   
His arm had wrapped around her waist, her own hands resting over her, as he pulled her down with him to sit between his legs on the cold ground. Sana leaned her back into his chest, relaxing into him, as he rested his chin on her head. His hands moved from over her eyes, arm dropping to join his other arm to wrap around her waist,    
“Open your eyes.”

  
So, so many stars. 

  
A swirling cavaswas stretched out in front of her. Brilliant strains of purples, oranges, blues and reds all blending and fading into each other. Burning, and shimmering, the stars entranced her, and Sana’s eyes watered slightly.   
“It’s so beautiful.”   
“It’s an uncharted nebula near the Ryloth system. I thought I’d show you, as you said, it is beautiful.”   
They sat in silence, warm despite the coldness of space, and comfortable despite the surroundings of steel and metal. She brought his hands up to her lips, kissing his fingers, “The best surprise. Thank you.”   
He kissed the top of her head, pulling her impossibly closer to him.    
Sitting on the floor of Slave-1 watching the nebula in his arms, she could pretend that the Empire didn’t exist, that the Hutts didn’t exist, that she wasn’t religiously bound to the Great Power, that she was just a simple, and ordinary girl in the arms of her lover. For a blissful moment in time, everything was perfect.

“ _ I think I’m a little in love with you. _ ”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I feel like crying hoking through so many websites for schematics for Slave-1 only to find essentially fuck all???  
> Yes.   
> So please be kind, I ended up mostly relying on the Mandalorian to get an idea of the layout.   
> Also Sana's restless sleeping is 100% based on my older sister when we used to share a bed, girly barely slept while sleeping????  
> Toodlepip! And thank you for reading!!!   
> 🥰🥰🥰


	18. Safe and sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana finds herself back in an all-too-familiar place  
> TW// Mentions of abuse, drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Space-time is gonna work how I say it works cause this is my story.   
> Please regard the triggers above.   
> Also any italics is Lahir'

Cool fog settled around her, the damp soil soft and seeping beneath her. Her skin, accustomed to the heat of Tatooine, relished in the goose bumps that had risen up.    
She was home. 

Sana opened her eyes, finding herself curled up in the co-pilot chair of Slave-1, wrapped tightly in her cloak, and another blanket tucked carefully around her. Boba was nowhere in sight. She pushed herself off the seat, and leaned against the pilot’s console to look out the window.    
There was no mistaking the fog shrouded around the deep green trees. She was definitely home.    
Sana spun around, hugging her cloak closer around her, “Boba?”   
“Down here.”    
Climbing down the ladder, Sana saw him sitting with his elbows resting on his spread legs, helmet back on. She approached him, uneasy nausea rolling in her stomach.    
“Why are we here?”   
He didn’t answer her, standing up to hold her elbows, he sounded oddly unsure when he finally spoke, “Ima, means mother right?”   
“How do you know that?”   
His hands rubbed up and down her arms, “You keep saying it in your sleep. I ran it through old linguistic databases, and it pinpointed the dialect to here.”   
She nodded, chewing on her inner cheek hard enough to draw blood, “So why bring me here?”   
“You don’t have to do anything.” he sat back down, “I just thought I’d give you the option, if you have anything unresolved here.”

Sana crossed her arms, pacing back and forth across the deck, chewing on her sore cheek. She didn’t know what to do. His actions had come from a place of concern, and he wasn’t forcing her to do anything, but at the same time, she felt annoyed at his interference. The salty, metallic sting of her bleeding cheek became overwhelming.    
“The Imperial presence here has decreased dramatically since Yavin,” he quietly informed her, “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

She stopped pacing, slumping in the seat across from him, “I-”   
Despite all the blood, her mouth had gone dry. She was standing in front of a hurdle that she didn’t have the strength to jump over. She twitched and interlocked her fingers together, “I should be getting back to my practice.”   
“You haven’t been gone for even a full rotation, you have time if you wish.”

Sana huffed, pushing herself back up and straightened her skirt. 

  
She wasn’t the scared child who had left here so many years ago.    
She had treated bandits, pirates, bargained with gangsters and faced literal monsters. She was even sleeping with one of the galaxy’s most notorious bounty hunters. She wasn’t going to be scared of facing family.    
  


She bit down on her cheek, turning to him, “You’ll be close-by, right?”   
He nodded, “I won’t be far from your side. You’re safe.”

With his promise, Sana tilted her chin up, and wrapped her cloak securely around herself, before finally walking down the ramp. 

* * *

  
  


Crossing from the sparse forest floor, and under the carved wooden archway, Sana was struck by the fact that her village was exactly as she remembered it. Planks of wood creating paths over the mud and soil winded and disappeared between market stalls and buildings. The dingy blue schoolhouse beside the entrance still had its dilapidated outhouses just tucked behind the corner. The half collapsed town hall, from when Imperial forces had moved in, still somewhat stood directly across from the archway, the Empire’s flag projected proudly over it. The blue fog that settled over the air was cool and heavy, filtering between the coniferous trees that lined the edges of the village. The air was damp, and the wet smell of rain and soil was refreshing after over a decade on the hot sands of Tatooine.    
Wrapped up in her cloak, with her face covered, Sana took a moment to stroll through the village she had called home in safe anonymity. She recognised the aged faces of classmates, some donning beards, some balancing children on their hips, all dead in their eyes.    
She passed through between the town hall and former library, no longer on the wooden planks as she took the shortcut home.    
She leapt over the small stream, and climbed the rickety wooden fence, surrendering to the bushes that had scratched her through her clothes and tugged her hair out of her braids as a child, before she’d be completely engulfed by the untamed forests.    
But the forests stood more naked now, more bare, and dead than her memories had clung onto. She swallowed down the sorrow it evoked within her as she kept creeping forward, careful to avoid any hunter traps that may have been laid. 

  
The air grew heavy with impending rain. 

The green damp and dewy field that stretched before her house seemed duller now. She stood at the edge of the forest treeline, watching for a moment.    
Smoke from the oven-fire curled up from the chimney, and she could see a tall, and lanky man with cropped blonde curls swinging an axe up and bringing it down to split wood blocks. He finished, leaning on the axe, and wiping his brow with the back of his arm, grabbing some blocks under his arm as he turned. Sana pulled down her hood.    
His eyes stopped on her. Narrowing with suspicion, before widening.    
He dropped the blocks.    
“ _ Cassaya?! _ ”   
Her heart leapt at the old nickname, and she ran forward, catapulting into her brother as she sobbed, “ _ Seryozha! _ ”   
He smelt of wood, and rain, and home. His heartbeat achingly familiar beneath her ear. He spun her around, before pulling her back and looking at her,    
“ _ Great power you’re as short as I remember. _ ”   
She swatted at his arm, and he laughed, full and hearty, and gap tooth flashing, “ _ Scrappy as ever I see. _ ” 

She nodded, wiping her tears away with her glove, “ _ Glad to see you finally filled out, no longer looking like a tree stalk. _ ”   
He stuck his tongue out, and bent down to pick up the dropped wood blocks, “ _ Come on inside, oh great stranger. Gotta get properly re-introduced to everyone. _ ”

They fell into an old rhythm of banter as they sat beside the fire. Katya, an old classmate who was four years her senior at the schoolhouse, was now her apparent sister in-law. She was a woman taller than herself, beautiful rounded and glowing with child. She brought over baked bread, and hot milk, as Seryozha caught Sana up on life in the village.    
“ _ The Imperial admin changed out maybe five orbits ago, this new guy is less terrifying than the previous, more concerned about getting fat than executions. And you remember old schoolmaster Cosalya? Dead! The bastard dropped down from a heart attack, bless the Great Power. I was gonna break his cane across his own back myself if he was gonna raise it to little Alexei.” _ _   
_ _ “You have a son?!” _ _   
_ _ “Yup!”  _ he grinned _ , “Little Alexei is a chip off my shoulder, five years old and big and strong, but as pretty as his mother.”  _

Katya rolled her eyes at his wink,  _ “Sadly the old female schoolmaster Antoinette hasn’t left us yet. The bitch is still making poor souls stand on chairs until they faint.” _ _   
_ _ “The schools are still segregated then?” _ _   
_ Seryozha nodded,  _ “And Lahir’ is outright banned from the curriculum now, none of the new generation speak it. We've been doing our best to teach Alexei." _

Sana sighed, glugging back some milk and tearing off a piece of her bread, “ _ And Anya?” _ _   
_ _ “Ran off to the Rebellion,”  _ Seryozha sighed, stoking the flames of the fire, “ _ She lived with us for a while, after spitting on Madame Antoinette. Then we woke up one morning and she was gone, got a cryptic note from a passer-by a few lunar cycles later.” _ _   
_ _ “And… Abba and Ima?” _ _   
_ He shrugged, talking while chewing,  _ “They live in the factory lodgings. Abba’s a local administrator for the facility, so he isn’t doing so much heavy work anymore. They gave Katya and I the house as a wedding gift. Ima’s quiet as ever, helped deliver Alexei though, and will help with the other baby on the way.” _ _   
_ He fondly rubbed his hand over Katya’s swollen stomach, she turned to Sana, “ _ Have you married anyone, Sana?” _ _   
_ _ “Tatooine’s Jundland wastes aren’t really swimming with bachelors, or Tatooine in general.”  _ she nervously laughed. A mildly uncomfortable silence settle, and Seryozha cleared his throat,    
_ “How’d you get here anyway? Didn’t think ol’ Celesthine would teach you how to fly.” _ _   
_ _ “She didn’t. A friend owed a favour.” _ _   
_ _ “Friend?” _ _   
_ Sana swatted at his arm again, and he teased,  _ “Ooooh, see that Katya? Little Cassaya’s in loooove with her ‘friend’.” _ _   
_ _ “As you can see, many things have changed, your brother however, not so much. Why don’t you ask your friend to join us for dinner? It’s the least we can do for them, and our Basic isn’t too bad so they won’t be left out.”  _ Katya rested her hand on Sana’s arm as she insisted.  _   
_ _ “I’m not so sure-” _ _   
_ _ “No, no, no, Cassaya! We must meet your ‘friend’.”  _ Seryozha interrupted, his eyes had a devilish glint in them. Sana sighed, defeated and overwhelmed by the day, “ _ I’ll ask.” _ _   
_   
  


“Everything alright?” Boba had kept his promise of being not too far, resting with his arms crossed against a tree just out of sight from the house. Sana jogged down the fields towards him, “My brother and sister-in-law want to give you food, they promise to speak Basic.”   
He snorted slightly, “Don’t think I’d be a welcome dinner table guest.”   
“Not much news about the rest of the galaxy reaches here, I promise.”   
He stood, unwavering, and Sana sighed, “It would mean a lot for me if you joined.”   
After a moment, he pushed himself off the tree, “Well, if that’s the case then I can’t refuse.”   
“It’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

* * *

It was anything but fine.

Seryozha’s face turned ashen when Boba had walked through the door, Katya had just smiled nervously as she motioned to the table, “Please, sit.”   
The discomfort was palpable as Sana and Katya brought plates and bowls of food to the table.    
Seryozha shook his head, and rolled back his shoulders, sitting at the head of the table directly across from Boba, “Nice to meet any friend of Cassaya’s.”   
Boba raised his eyebrows at Sana, and she whispered, “Lahir’ diminutive.”   
“Yes, it must be very hard making friends on a place like Tatooine.” Katya giggled nervously, handing over a plate to Boba, “We’re very grateful you brought Cassaya back to see us again, she’s grown so much!”   
“It was no trouble to me.” Boba steadily responded, accepting the plate. Seryozha raised his eyebrows, and stuck his knife into the table, “Oh, I’m sure it was no trouble with the promise of a reward.”   
“ _ Seryozha, shut it!”  _ Sana hissed at him, his eyes didn’t leave Boba’s as he tilted his head towards her, “ _ He’s Empire you dumbass!” _ _   
_ _ “You two! Basic!”  _ Katya pleaded, smiling apologetically to Boba.    
“ _ It’s not that simple, Seryozha, just trust me!” _ _   
_ The moment was broken when a young voice called, “ _ Abba! Ima! I’m home!” _ _   
_ A young boy trudged in, unceremoniously kicking off muddy boots, and shaking his head. He had Katya’s mousy curls, and her big brown eyes, but something about his face echoed Seryozha. He stopped, frowning at Sana,    
“ _ You look like Satva Seraphine.”  _ _   
_ “Alyoshenka, greet our guests in Basic please.” Katya walked over to brush the damp curls off his face. He pouted a little, puffing out chubby cheeks and looking down at his rumpled socks, as he wrung his hands, “Hello, guests.”   
Sana crouched forward, holding out her hand to him, “You must be Alexei, right? I’m Cassandra, your Abba’s sister.”   
He retreated from her hand, fleeing over to Seryozha, who pulled him up to sit on his knee, “How was school?”   
Alexei shrugged, and reached forward to pick up some bread. Katya nodded, “Yes, please everyone dig in.”

  
Silence descended the table, and Katya fought gallantly to keep things civil, coaxing little snippets of Alexei’s day. But the five year old was shy, his eyes constantly flickering back and forth from Boba’s face. Boba tried his best to not seem so stiff in front of the child, feeling the heated gaze from Seryozha from across the table. Sana and Katya tried to get an easy conversation going.    
“How far along are you?”   
“Nearly seven cycles in now, the child should be born under the Harvest moon we think.” Boba noticed that Katya spoke Basic in a far clearer accent than Sana and her brother, it didn't have the more guttural roll that they had.    
“Are you expecting a boy or girl?”   
Katya shrugged, “These things don’t concern us. But I think Alyoshenka wants a baby brother.” she chuckled, reaching over to pinch her son’s cheek. She turned her head to Boba, “Do you have any siblings?”   
“Not exactly.” Boba stared down as he brought a spoonful of stew up to his mouth.    
“No, he just has a very common face.” Seryozha muttered into his own spoon. Alexei finally spoke up, “Mister, do you fly ships?”   
“Yes.”   
The child’s eyes widened, “What kind?”   
“A very fast one. One of the best this side of the core rim.”   
“Abba said Doda flies ships up in space.”   
“Doda?”   
“Our little sister, Anya.” Sana explained, “Do you think she’s a good pilot Alyoshenka?”   
He shrugged, “Dunno. Mister do you want to see my starship toys?”   
“Alexei I don’t thin-” Seryozha was cut off by the five year old hopping off his father’s lap and ran over to Boba, pulling his arm excitedly as he dragged him towards a living room. Katya smiled apologetically at him.    
“See here, these are all mine.” Alexei tipped over a box, spilling out a variety of figures, and proudly grinning. Boba smiled a little, sitting down and picking up an Imperial cruiser model to inspect. Behind him, in the kitchen he could hear hushed Lahir’ whispers and hisses, as Alexei crashed what looked like a tie-fighter into the cruiser Boba held.    
“You gotta be a hell of a pilot to pull that maneuv-”   
He was interrupted by Katya’s shout behind them, “Sergei and Cassandra Lithé! You will stop squabbling like children or so help me-”    
“Ima’s mad.” Alexei informed coolly, replacing Boba’s imperial cruiser for a transport ship and droid model. “Abba said Ima was head girl at school, so she can be very scary when mad.”   
“Your aunt can be scary as well.”   
Alexei shrugged, “I don’t really know her. But my other doda was nice, when she lived here she made all my models and would play with me before bed.”   
“Where did doda go?”   
“Abba said she got a job somewhere. One morning, I wake up and she’s all gone.”   
“I’m sorry.”   
“Why Abba doesn’t like you?”   
Boba shrugged, “It’s complicated. Are you looking forward to being an older brother?”   
He shook his head, “Babies are gross, boy at school has a baby sister and she looks like a dead rabbit.”   
He bit his lip to stop from laughing, “I’m sure your brother or sister won’t be that bad.”   
“Do you and doda have babies?”   
“No.”   
“But you’re old! And all old people have babies!” Alexei huffed, seemingly all-knowing of the workings of the world.    
“My father was older than me when I was born.”   
“Very old.” he muttered, snatching the transport model from Boba’s hand. He raised his eyebrows at the child.    
Straight from the mouths of babes, he guessed. Alexei proudly displayed a figure, pressing it into Boba’s hand, and he felt his breath catch in his chest. A little clone trooper model in phase-1 armour. He gently held it in his hand. His bubbling familiarity was broken by Alexei as he crashed a droid against his hand, making blaster sounds. 

“Alyoshenka, don’t harass our guest anymore than you already have. Tidy up and go do your schoolwork upstairs.” Katya called from the door, hand resting over her stomach. Alexei pouted, and opened his mouth to argue but a warning was mumbled from Katya’s lips, and Alexei dejectedly began to pick up his figures.    
Boba pushed himself off from the ground, and followed Katya back to the kitchen, “I sent Cassaya and Seryozha out to walk, so I’m afraid you’re stuck here for a little while, would you like some tea?”   
“If you wouldn’t mind.”   
She waved her hand, “‘fraid we don’t have any caff to offer you. Seryozha doesn’t drink it and well, I can’t for the time being.”   
She sat across from him at the table, and slid over a steaming mug to him. He let the warmth of it seep through his gloves, as Katya studied him, “We know who we are, and we trust Cassaya’s judgement, but please understand, it was a bit of a shock seeing her today let alone…”   
“Me.”   
“Yes.” she cleared her throat, “But Seryozha’s grateful to see her again. Truly.”    
“As I said, it was no trouble for me to bring her here.”   
“Your relationship… Is intimate I’m presuming.”   
“You presume correctly.”   
She nodded, frowning and staring into her tea, “I think that’s what is freaking Seryozha out most. Understand, the last time he saw her she was still very much a child, she wasn’t even a proper witch. I think his mind is still trying to catch up.”   
“I understand. Why did Sa-Cassaya have to leave here in the first place? Wasn’t their mother also a witch?”   
Katya shrugged, “Seraphine, she’s… How can I put this? Not fully present mentally? She can be really nice, but she can also be very cruel. From what I can gather, Cassaya got the brunt of it as a child. Seryozha and Chased-their father arranged to have Cassaya sent off to learn under Celesthine. If things had kept going as they had, Seraphine would’ve got her killed.”   
“Seraphine couldn’t teach her?”   
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, “I think, deep down, Seraphine resented that Cassaya inherited her gift, and tried her best to ignore it or cure it. She wanted to be the last of the line.”   
“She never speaks badly of her mother.”   
“The human mind has an interesting way of dealing with these things to protect itself.”   
“What things?”

Katya stood up and walked to the fire, stoking the embers, and adding another block.    
“Katya, what did Seraphine do?”   
“Seryozha and I were taking the shortcut home. Cassaya hadn’t gone to school that day cause she was having one of her episodes. We were walking through the woods, and up to the lake when… Seraphine was just standing over her… and Cassaya- she wasn’t breathing.”   
She cleared her throat, “Seryozha managed to get Cassaya breathing again, and Seraphine- she just wasn’t there, completely spaced out. When she finally came to, she was wailing and clutching onto Cassaya… Truth be told, I’m glad she doesn’t remember. It’s probably for the best.”   
“She tried to drown her daughter?”   
“I- I don’t know. I hope it was just a cleansing spell that went wrong.”   
Silence settled over the kitchen, Katya stared into the growing flames; “For her sake, this stays between us. Let her believe she was sent away to avoid getting burned in the village square. It’s half of the truth anyway.”

He should’ve just brought Sana back to Tatooine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter I'm sorry.   
> I've decided that Lahir' is a mixture between Russian and Hebrew. If I was more committed, maybe I'd make a full chart of sounds and structures for it but???? Idk where to begin.   
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed.   
> And thank you for all the support you've given this story!!!  
> It means so much to me!  
> I should be able to get the next chapter out by tonight/tomorrow morning!  
> Until then xxxxx


	19. Stronger than pinky promises in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conflict is settled, and Boba finally gets his hair cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up posting this late cause I had a submission issue with an assignment and also forgot about another assignment due on Wednesday 🤡🤡🤡🤡  
> But don't worry, she's back on track again.   
> Sorta.   
> All italics are yet again Lahir'.   
> Enjoy

Don’t wait with bated breath, for all this to turn sour.    
“ _ What are you thinking, Cassaya? Are you trying to get yourself killed? _ ”   
“ _ Seryozha I’m a fucking grown woman, I can decide who I sleep with. _ ”   
“ _ Yeah, and you pick fucking Boba Fett of all people? Imperial scum.”  _ He spat on the forest floor.    
“ _ You work at an Imperial factory, how's that any different! _ ”   
“ _ I work at a local factory that happens to provide supplies for the Empire. _ ”   
“ _ That’s also administered and controlled by Imperial officers! He just happens to work for the Empire occasionally, he doesn’t actually support them! _ ”   
“ _ Oh yeah, his usual employers are far better. _ ”

She threw up her arms, exasperated, “ _ Who did you expect I would wind up with? I live on fucking Tatooine, Sergei! _ ”   
“ _ Maybe a fucking farmer who’s not twice your age! _ ”   
“ _ He’s not twice my age! _ ”   
“ _ His fucking ship has been picking off people long since before I was born- _ ”   
“ _ The ship was also his father’s.” _ _   
_ _ “Doesn’t make it any better.” _ _   
_ She sighed, a part of her nagging that he was right, that she was being stupidly defensive,  __

_ “Look I understand why you’re upset, but please understand I’- _ ”   
“ _ Upset? Cassaya I’m fucking worried! I don’t see or hear from you for over a decade and you just suddenly appear arm-in-arm with Boba Fett. _ ”    
Sana crossed her arms, throat sore from the arguing, Seryozha stood leaning slightly forward in front of her, chest panting, “ _ Cassaya, I have no control over your life, hell I barely know you since you left, but please, please just be careful. Bounty Hunters aren’t the kind to settle down and treat someone right.” _ _   
_ She rolled her eyes,  _ “Marriage and family isn’t everything, Seryozha. I don’t even know what I want yet. Anyway, my private relationships have nothing to do with you, so can we please just drop this and go back inside?” _ _   
_ He slung an arm over her shoulder, starting the walk back home,  _ “I just don’t want to see you hurt.” _ _   
_ _ “You won’t.” _

  
“All sorted?” Katya chirped from the door as the two trudged back up the field, Seryozha shrugged, “Alexei do his homework?”   
She nodded, walking ahead of them back inside, “Nearly finished. I brought out some wine for a toast before Cassaya and-” she faltered, looking at Alexei, “her  _ ahuv _ leave.”    
Seryozha nodded, swinging up Alexei in his arms and settling down on his knee, “A toast to celebrate Cassaya’s return home. You and Ima can have some juice instead, hmm?”   
Katya brought a tray to the table, and sat down. Sana helped her pour and hand out drinks to everyone. She sat beside Boba, her knees turned towards him, as she leaned her head lightly against his shoulder. Seryozha raised his glass, everyone following suit;    
“To reunited family, and happier times.  _ L’chaim. _ ”    
“ _ L’chaim. _ ” Nearly everyone said, before taking a silent swig; the wine was rich, and slightly too sweet for Sana. She looked up at Boba, the slight knit in his brow told her that he felt the same about it. They smiled a little at each other, and his free arm reached around her waist. Alexei gulped down his juice greedily, and Katya sighed as she reached over to dab at a loose droplet that escaped his mouth. He sighed contentedly, swinging his legs and wriggling in Seryozha’s arms, “Doda, why’s your tooth broken?”   
“Your Abba pushed me out of saba’s speeder.” Sana responded, nodding her head solemnly, before reaching to kick at his foot, “Such a bully.”    
“Such a bully” Seryozha mocked, “Did you die, Cassaya? No. So I don’t feel guilty.”   
“You chipped my tooth!”   
“Character building.”   
“Don’t give Alyoshenka ideas!”

  
The playful bickering and reminiscing filled the small house, as the sky grew darker, turning a deep purple. 

Boba watched the family scene play out, how Sana’s cheeks flushed from the wine and her eyes glistened as she laughed with her brother, relaxed and happy. Her body shook from laughing in his arms.    
It nearly looked like something from a holo-film.    
“-remember when Madame Antoinette made you stand on the chair of shame, Cassaya? I could see you across the schoolhouse, you never looked so angry!” Seryozha reeled back in his chair as he laughed, “You were burning holes at her!”   
“She called me a liar in front of the entire class! How was I supposed to feel?”    
“The chair of shame?” Alexei’s huge eyes inquired.   
“At the girl’s side of the schoolhouse, you had Madame Antoinette and her chair of shame, she’d make you stand on it for however long she decided if you misbehaved.” Katya explained.    
“You never got sent on it, did you Katya?”   
“Nope.” she tilted her head up proudly, “I was too good a student.”   
Seryozha burst into laughter, “Please! You just never got caught, had everyone else do your bidding!”   
His wife rolled her eyes at him, and stuck out her tongue. He just winked at her, as he bounced Alexei on his legs, before turning to Boba, “Any fun stories from school days?”   
“I was homeschooled.”   
“I can imagine.”   
Sana kicked at Seryozha’s foot. Boba opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted when the gentle tapping rain began to hit. Sana’s eyes grew wide and she leapt from her seat, scrambling outside. Katya called out to her with no avail, as she ran out into the field, tilting her head up to the sky and opening her arms. It never rained on Tatooine.    
Alexei had slipped out past his mother after her, joining Sana to spin around and celebrate in the rain. Leaving the couple at the table, Boba leaned against the door and watched as Sana and Alexei spun around in circles, laughing and singing some sort of rhyme. 

She looked up to him, smiling so hard it hurt. 

Seryozha leaned on the other side of the door, looking directly at Boba with his arms crossed, “I can’t interfere with her life, I know that. And she looks happy with you, I won’t deny that.”   
Boba looked back to him, and Seryozha continued, “All I can say is, if you hurt my sister, understand that I will kill you.”   
He raised his eyebrows, death threats were nothing new, but few had the raw intensity that this one had.    
“You have my word.”   
“Then you have our silence.” 

* * *

Sana was shivering as they walked up the ramp of Slave-1. The sky had burst as they had climbed the fence of the village, and they had had to run to the ship. She slipped off her cloak, and wrung it out on the ramp, “Is there any place I can hang this up?”

Boba took the cloak from her, and lay it flat over some crate as the ramp drew up. Sana walked up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss behind his ear, “I’m sorry Seryozha was mean sometimes, but it really meant a lot for me to see them again. Thank you.”   
“You didn’t get to see your parents.”   
She shook her head, burying her face into his neck, “This was more than enough. Thank you.”   
He patted the hands folded over his stomach, “What’s ahuv?”   
“Hmm?”   
“Katya called me your ahuv.”   
Her chin rested on his shoulder pauldron as she hummed, “It's like darling, or beloved.”    
“Cyar’ika.”   
“What?”   
He turned to her, rubbing his hands over her shaking shoulders, “Cyar’ika is the Mando’a for it.”   
“Do you want me to call you cyar’ika?” she managed through chattering teeth. Boba shook his head, holding her cheek under his palm, “Just want you to understand what I call you.”

  
  
  
  


Tatooine binary suns began to peak over the horizon, but they still slept soundly. Wrapt up in each other's arms as their skin began to heat up after being caught in the rain. Too tired to even dream, for a blissful moment, everything seemed peaceful. 

Sana was surprisingly the first one to wake, her eyes burning from the high sun. She slipped out briefly to go to the bathroom, before sliding back under the covers and into his arms.    
“Why are your hands always so cold?” he groaned, not opening his eyes while Sana rested her hands on his warm back.    
“It compliments you.” she grinned, nuzzling back into his neck, and planting a small kiss there, “We wouldn’t be able to sleep like this if I was as warm as you.”   
“I’ll keep that in mind when I die from hypothermia.” he muttered.    
“So dramatic.”   
“Wretched creature.” 

She smiled into his neck, and felt his hands wrapping around her, pulling her body closer to him. She surrendered to the warm mix of musk and leather, running her hand up to his head, “Do you want me to cut your hair today?”   
“Mhmm.”   
“We can leave it another day if you’re too tired?” Sana pulled her head back, holding his face with her palm. He shook his head, eyes still closed as he kissed her palm, “Gotta leave Tatooine for a job tomorrow, might take a lunar cycle.” 

He pushed himself up, and rubbed his eyes and Sana gently tapped at his elbow, “I’ll get some caff on then, if you want to wet your hair in the sink.”   
Boba nodded, and she trotted downstairs, checking the water tank connection before starting up the caff. Upstairs, the tap ran and she heard him splash his face and wash his teeth as she leaned against the counter. 

  
‘Cyar’ika’ she pondered as she bit her lips. The way he had said it in the ship had made her chest swell with warmth and something else - pride maybe? His dark eyes looking deeply into hers as he held her face, so warm and soft, had made the little term become something as strong and intimate as pinky promises made in the dark. The image playing over and over in her head made her smile to herself, and her stomach burst into butterflies strong enough for her to squirm a little. 

  
The kettle whistled and she poured two steaming mugs before returning upstairs. Boba frowned as he accepted the mug from where he sat at the edge of the bathtub,    
“You do realise we live in a century with modern technology?”   
“I was born in the backwaters during intergalactic war, you think we had any modern technology growing up? We were lucky to have running water some days.”   
Sana grabbed a comb and scissors, and pointed for him to sit on the floor against the bathtub. Taking a sip of the bitter drink, she started combing through his hair, cutting the scissors inwards and letting the curls of hair fall into the tub. He leaned his head back watching her silently, taking occasional sips of the caff. Her eyes met his, “You’re in deep thought again.”   
“Sometimes it’s better to think than speak.”   
Sana stopped, letting her nose drop to bump his, “You can tell me anything, you know that right?”   
His hand cupped her cheek, eyes softening again, “I know, cyar’ika.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinky promises are the most intimate thing to me don't ask why. Also both Sana and Seryozha have points in their arguments, Sana's a bit loveblind lmao but more on that later.   
> Also more smut coming soon, I just wanted to start wrapping up at least some of my subplots.  
> Thank you so much for all your support!!!  
> See ya'll next weekend   
> xxx


	20. What I would make to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba and Sana start making up for the time they're gonna lose while he's gone for a job, simultaneously making a promise of sort.  
> TW// Explicit smut. Yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I somewhat back on top of my coursework? Sí, so I'm posting this a little earlier than scheduled as a treat for us all.  
> Enjoy.

“Touch yourself for me.”   
Sana frowned at his request, tilting her head from where she sat in his lap, “But you’re right here.”   
“I’m gonna be gone for a full cycle, maybe even more, I need to know you won’t be left wanting,” he breathed against her ear, nipping at her earlobe, and slapping at her exposed cunt, “Too much.”   
She bit off her whimper, sliding one hand between her tingling legs, cringing at the sound as her fingers slipped between the folds. Boba snorted against her ear, “All worked up already?”   
“You’re no help.” she muttered, forehead on his shoulder, breath hitching she began circling her clit. The heat from the centre of her body slowly crawled up to her face, and she sighed into his shoulder. His hand reached to pull her face up to face him, through fluttering eyes she could see his wolfish grin,    
“You’re-You’re enjoying this too much.” she panted slightly, trying to lean back against his shoulder.   
He kept her head up, forcing her to keep looking at him, “Not gonna dip your fingers in?”   
She whined slightly, “I know how to masturbate, so can you- can you please just touch me?!”   
“Patience.” he hummed, eyes twinkling as he watched her fingers curl in. Her whine building, as his hand on her lower back pushed her deeper onto her fingers. 

  
He enjoyed the sight of her like this; worked up, and starting to unravel. All before he even touched her.    
Her green eyes were pleading at his though fluttering brown eyelashes, “Bo-”   
He shushed her, gently tracing his lips over the small freckle on the outside of her right eyelid, as her lashes tickled against his chin. The fingers of her free hand curled into his bicep as she tried to muffle her moans.    
Boba pushed his mouth onto hers, biting at her bottom lip until she parted her mouth. His tongue ran across the chipped tooth, before moving deeper into her mouth, licking, and swallowing up each moan she made. He knew her well enough that she was getting closer. He moved his hand from his hold on her chin, to knead at one of her boobs, nearly smiling as her back arched into him when he ran his thumb over her nipple.    
“Always so sensitive,” he moved his attention to just suck slightly on her bottom lip, “Move back to your clit.”   
Sana’s head fell forward against his, her breath hot on his ear as he watched her fingers trace back up, drawing harsh circles.    
“I’m gonna-” she couldn’t finish sentence, her head dropping back to his shoulder, “Boba, please-”   
She moaned into his shoulder as she felt herself pulse and spasm around nothing, a sweet wave of relief rushing to the top of her head. Trying to catch her breath, she felt his hand rub circles on her lower back, as he mumbled over and over into her hair, “Good girl.”

Sana trailed her fingers from his bicep down his bare sternum to his navel, where his hair grew thicker, and pulled at the waistband of his pants, moving her hand to palm against his evident hardness, strained against the material, “Want you.”   
“You can have me.”   
Her eyes widened, his voice sounded like he was smirking, she wasn’t left wondering long why, as he pulled her face out from his shoulder, his palm resting on the back of her neck, “Just not quite yet.”

  
He took her hand that rested on her thighs, and held her hand in his, bringing them up to compare, “So small.” he hummed, “No wonder you can’t seem to reach that spot, hmm?”   
Tantalizingly, Boba brought her fingers up to his mouth, and her spine shuddered as he slowly licked and hummed against her fingers. Sana exhaled shakily from parted lips, their dark eyes never parting, as he continued, before moving his lips down to kiss her unmarred knuckles.   
With her hand steadied against his chest, she leaned in to kiss the tender skin under his eyes, his thick eyelashes tickling against her nose. Boba squeezed the back of her neck, and pulled her back, moving his fingers to rest on the seam of her lips,   
“Open.” he instructed, voice growing raspy.    
She parted, letting his fingers slide in, and circling her tongue around each one. He pressed into the back of her throat, and her eyes welled up and fluttered, as she kept sucking on them. A pleased rumble left him, the warmth of it pressing against her own chest, as his eyes glimmered down on her. Boba withdrew his fingers, humming satisfactorily as a trail of drool came with them. She wanted to wipe her mouth but she couldn’t, her whole body felt droopy and soft against him like this, she was drunk under his touch. 

A small whine escaped her as he slid his fingers into her. He started to drag against her walls with curled fingers, chuckling as her hips pressed onto him,    
“Listen to how wet you are.”   
The tips of Sana’s ears burned at the lewd sound her body was making. Boba kept going, “Dripping into the palm of my hand, are you that horny, princess?”   
She huffed, squeezing her eyes shut to try and get a grip on reality, “I just-”   
He moved his fingers impossibly deeper, hitting against a spot that made her back arch, “There it is. Keep going, you just?”   
“I-” she sighed, “Just want you in me.”   
“Oh, but I am in you.” he teased, his thumb swiping over her clit and his fingers pressing into that tender spot, making her cry out. Slick spilled out onto his hand as she whined, but he kept going, letting it dribble down his arm as she couldn’t come down from her previous high. Her breathing was becoming sporadic and she clawed at his shoulders, “Want more.”    
“And you’ll get it,” he leaned in to nip at her parted lips, “You’ll get everything you desire when I get you to cum one more time for me.”

He doubled down on his efforts of pumping into her with his fingers, curling and beckoning and increasing pressure against that bump inside her, while keeping a steady circling on her clit. Sana’s moans and cries were growing, her body simultaneously grinding onto his fingers and trying to writhe away from him. 

“Bo- Boba, gonna-” she moaned again, her head colliding painfully with his chin, “Gonna cum.”   
He leaned to kiss her head, and she cried into his neck, her walls were squeezing and pulsing against him, and he felt her gush into the palm of his hand. He kept going as her orgasm washed over her, only slowing down when she was whimpering quietly and shaking into him. Boba pulled her back off his neck, holding her face in his hands and bringing her in so he could lick the salty welled up tears in her eyes. She sighed, relaxing into his hold, her eyelids fluttering against his lips. He withdrew his fingers from her, eliciting a whine to escape her lips, and wiped his dripping hand on his pants leg. Sana pushed herself off his body, chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. 

  
Boba took a moment to admire her splayed out form, the small swell of her breasts to the narrow dip of her waist travelling to the rounded swell of her hips, as he pushed his pants off. Before he could move, she was reaching forward to wrap her fingers around his cock, slowly working up and down the shaft. He watched her for a moment, letting the back of his hand drift over her scarred cheek. She looked up and smiled at him, and he pushed her down onto the bed, taking his cock into his hand and pumping it slowly, as he pushed her legs open, 

“Gonna let me fuck you hard enough to break that implant?”   
Her eyes widened, and she wiggled to part her legs even further for him, inner thighs glistening as he kneeled onto the bed, still stroking his cock,    
“You can fuck me however you like.”   
“Such a filthy mouth,” he cooed, crawling up her body while hooking one of her legs up and around him. He hissed a little, while pushing the head of his cock into her,    
“Always so tight no matter how much you take me, hmm?”

  
She nodded, groaning and scrabbling to pull his shoulders up, wanting to feel the burn of all of him in her. Each measured roll of his hips into her made her entire body sing, and tingle, as he kept pushing up against something deep within her. Her eyes were welling up again, the world around her becoming a swirling mix of his smell, his raspy grunts, and his burning hot skin. Under her palms she could feel him getting closer and closer, lust and desire mixing and swirling in his veins, as her own pleasure built up, approaching it’s floodgates climax. Sensing her impending orgasm, her pushed her arm off him, pushing his thumb just under the implant as he kept thrusting in, panting into her ear,    
“I’ll get this thing out some day, fuck a baby into you.”   
Her whine was embarrassingly loud as her body buzzed from his words, he kept going, “Would you like that, cyar’ika? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”   
Sana’s sobbed ‘yes’ was loud beside him, her walls clenching around him as she began to shake beneath him. Boba pressed his lips right up to her ear, “Better get lots of practice in then, hmm? Let go, gimme one more so I can fill you up.”   
She clung and sobbed into his shoulder, as he thrusted up once more, hitting up against something hard enough to make her cry out, as she came for the final time that night. Boba abandoned any consistency he had held for her, chasing his own pent up release in quick sporadic thrusts. With a final push deep into her, hitting up against that spot in her, he let himself gush into her, groaning into her neck. 

They lay still joined together, burning hot, panting and sticky. Sana drew swirling patterns across his back, feeling him go soft in her, “Was that just the sex talking?”   
“Hhm?” his nose nuzzled against her temple as he kissed just below her cheekbone.    
“About you wanting to give me a baby?”   
He pulled himself up a little to look at her flushed face properly, “Do you want a baby?”   
“At some point,” she mused, swirls trailing gown his bicep, “Just not now.”   
“Then just say the word when you’re ready.” his lips drifted over hers, before he slid himself out of her, and pushed himself up to sit between her legs.    
Throwing a wink at her, he reached forward with his hand, pushing the leaking cum back into her as she whimpered,   
“In the meantime, cyar’ika, we can just practice for the occasion.”    


* * *

Boba left before sunset, and watching from her bedroom window, Sana imagined she saw Slave-1 drift through the purple sky.    
Silently whispering her prayer for his safety, while love rested on her lips. 

Lying in bed that night, Sana found the sudden emptiness beside her chilling. Half asleep, she’d find herself rolling over to curl up into him, only to find her bed empty. A defeated sigh would escape her as she would draw the covers closer around her.    
Not even a day had passed, but she couldn’t wait for him to get back.    
  


Boba had been gone for roughly a week, when an envoy arrived at her home. An entourage of dancers climbed out of the speeder, followed by a few guards. She was told that Jabba expected her to see to and heal each of them- gratis.    
Sana didn’t dare argue, the human and Gamorrean guards hung menacingly over her as they delivered her instructions, blades shining under the sun. She simply nodded her head, and got the dancers to sit on the edges of beds and chairs as she did a quick priority assessment. Most simply had bruises, sprains and aches from over exhaustion- several had some serious muscles, tendon and ligament damage from not being able to rest previous injuries. Sana began dividing out painkillers and anti-inflammatories. She treated the Rhodian, known as Numa, and an Aruzan named Manaroo that she hadn’t met before. Before moving onto Astrid who smiled wryly as Sana placed her hand on her stiff pelvis, “ _ Easy there pirate, might have to charge you. _ ”   
Sana giggled a little, feeling the stiffness and aches Astrid experienced begin to fizzle out, “ _ What, no friend discount? _ ”   
“ _ Please, I’m a professional, cash upfront or no deal. How’s it been? You didn’t make an appearance at the last great feast, among others. _ ”   
“ _ Had something to attend to off world, hope you didn’t miss me too much.” _ _  
_ _ “Sadly for me, I miss the faceless witch all the time.” _ _  
_ Sana moved her hands up to her shoulder, bumping her head against Astrid’s, “ _ I miss you between parties too.” _ _  
_ Astrid held up her pinky finger, “ _ Promise not to miss the next one?” _ _  
_ Sana interlocked her own with Astrid, “ _ Promise.” _ _  
_ Astrid gave her a full faced grin, before sliding off the bed and shaking out her body,  _ “Magic as always, Sana.” _ _  
_ _ “It’s almost like I’ve been doing this most of my life.”  _ Sana rolled her eyes, before waving over the next dancer, a human, “ _ I’ll sneak some anti-inflammation medicine and muscle salves back with you, can I trust you to ensure everyone gets equal shares?” _ _  
_ _ “You have my word oh great healer of the Jundlands.”  _ Astrid assured, leaning on Numa’s shoulder, “ _ We’d be grateful for anything at this rate.”  _ _  
_ Sana worked out an ankle injury on the human, moving up to her weakened knee, “ _ I’ll try and get a constant supply for you, but if there’s anything else you need please just tell me.” _ _  
_ The dancers gave her their thanks, and Astrid opened her mouth to speak again when two loud shots echoed outside. 

They dropped into crouches, everyone scuttling to hide behind anything as the door was kicked open,    
“Witch?”   
Sana peeked up to see someone she recognised standing in her doorway, human, male, tall… The Wookie behind him gave it away. Sana brushed her skirt as she stood up, “Solo, what are you do-”   
“No time to explain.” he grabbed her wrist and started to drag her. Sana pushed her heels into the ground and tried to yank her arm to get free,    
“Hey let me go!”   
Solo just nodded to Chewie, who just slung her over his shoulder, and started running to the ship. Sana could hear the shouts from the dancers behind her, as she wriggled and scrambled to get free.    
“Put me down!”   
“I’ve got no time for this witch you gotta come with us.”   
“Solo you get this wookie to put me down right now or so hel-”   
“You’re coming with us- end of. Now stop your shrieking, will ya? Solo barked as they scrambled aboard a shuttle. Chewie sat her down in a chair as Solo clicked and flicked at some switches. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and her stomach churned.   
The shuttle left the ground, and Sana scrambled from her seat, running back to the closing ramp.    
“No! Wait!”   
The ramp closed. She was trapped. “Chewie why didn’t you strap her in?”   
There was a grunted roar, and Solo shouted back, “Why didn’t I do it? You were the one that had her over your shoulder!”   
The ship lurched forward, and she stumbled to the ground. Pushing herself back to her feet, Sana ran unsteadily back to the cockpit, kicking with all her strength at Solo’s seat, “You bastard take me back now!”   
“Look, we’re kinda on a time limit here so that ain’t an option.”    
“You’re gonna get me killed! Take me back now!”   
Solo’s response was lost on her as her stomach dropped watching as outside the viewing panels, the sparkling inky black turned brilliant streaks of blue.    
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the sweet comments and support you've given this story, we're gonna be wrapping it up soon, so I'll probably just stick to one-shots and requests for a while before committing to a full fic again.  
> But until the next update!  
> Much love  
> Author (who should probably go and touch some grass right now)  
> xxxx


	21. Please take me home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana arrives on Hoth.  
> Boba arrives on Tatooine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to post this last night, but had to do application papers- that I couldn't even do in the end cause I didn't have half the info I need for them. 😡😡😡  
> But enough of that,  
> Enjoy!  
> (Italics are Lahir' as usual)

Sana didn’t know when she had passed out.   
She woke up slumped on the chair of the shuttle, ears ringing, and stomach churning and bubbling as the weightless emptiness of space surrounded her. The harsh artificial light burned her heavy eyes when she tried to open them.   
Her throat felt thick and dry as she tried to speak, “Where?”   
“Oh, you’re alive.” Solo’s response had that sarcastic hint to it that just grated against her nerve endings, “Was worried I’d be burying your body in the snow.”   
Sana blinked a couple of times, licking her dried lips, “Snow?”

“Hope you brought your snowsuit with ya.”

Sana’s body painfully shivered as she stumbled out of the shuttle behind Solo. Her ungloved hands screamed at her from the exposure, and though she was wrapped in a heat retention blanket, it did little to keep her from feeling close to death. She was guided through winding, half constructed corridors before being brought into a somewhat insulated, warm room. Her bones hurt from the cold when the heat hit the outer layer of her skin, slowly and uncomfortably permeating through. A lady brought over a variety of flight suits, gloves and boots for her to try on, and Sana stifled the urge to cry as she stripped off her albeit thin clothes off her cold body. The first few, of a smaller size to accommodate her height, couldn’t get past her mid thighs, so she was forced to opt for the larger sizes, rolling up the hems and binding the sleeves to keep the cold from seeping in.   
Mildly defrosted, and dressed, Sana was brought into a haphazard room, full of computer screens and equipment, Solo gestured at her in conversation with a small brunette,   
“See your royal highness, a healer.”   
Her ‘royal highness’- the brunette turned and scrutinised the shivering Sana briefly before snapping back at Solo, “You mean to tell me you simply ran out to kidnap a Lahirean healer, nearly drawing attention back to the base in the process?”   
“You can thank me later.”   
She threw him a twisted look before sighing, and turning to Sana, “I am Leia Organa, Han here says you’re a Lahirean healer, is that correct?”   
Still shivering, Sana nodded, “Yes, I am Cassandra Lithé of the Lahirean clan.”   
“Good to have you on board, you’ve arrived at a much needed time. Come with me.”   
Sana followed Leia through to a temporary med-bay, a man lay on his side, head and arm bandaged up in bacta patches, “Our medical unit hasn’t arrived yet, and we haven’t set up the recharge stations for the med droids, can you see to him?”   
Sana nodded, slipping off her gloves as she approached him. Gently peeling off the bacta patches, she evaluated the deep gouges of long scars that were revealed to her. Though the bacta patches had begun the healing process, they wouldn’t get far with the process. Lightly she held her palms over the area, mumbling the incantations as Organa watched her from across the table. The various tissues slowly knitted and stitched back together, and beneath her tingling hands, Sana felt the weak flow of blood grow stronger.   
“Incredible.” Organa remarked, mostly to herself, before clearing her throat, “I hope Han hasn’t placed you in any danger by bringing you here.”   
Sana shrugged, chewing the inside of her cheek to hide her anger, “No more than I usually am in. Such is life for those of my kind who remain.” 

Organa nodded once, and turned to leave but faltered, “Lithé, wasn’t it?”

Sana nodded, eyes not moving from her patient. Organa continued, “We have a young mechanic with the same name, I wouldn’t mention it otherwise but she does come from the system that your... diaspora originate from.”  
“What’s their name?”   
“Antayla Lithé.”

Sana’s eyes flashed up to where Organa stood, “Antayla? You’re sure?”  
“Yes. Do you know her?” her response was calm, and bordering friendly.   
“I.. I think I might, but...” Sana drifted off, her focus returning to her stirring patient, “I’m not sure if she’ll remember me.” 

“Well, maybe you’ll have a chance to get reacquainted, you should be able to find her in the cargo hold. Let me know if you need anything.”   
Alone, and still shivering despite the heat that had begun to crawl back into her body, Sana contemplated the odds of Anya recognising her, or of the benefits if she did. Swallowing her nerves, she double checked that her patient was settled, before moving back through the halls to get to the cargo hold, stopping to ask directions from several passer-bys on the way. 

It was even colder out there, her face felt dry and numb with cold, and she felt very overwhelmed surrounded by the fighter jets, shuttles and groups of people who intertwined around each other, as she desperately scanned the space.   
If she could see that Anya was fine, that would be enough for her, she wouldn’t interfere or approach her, just let her live her life; Sana reasoned to herself, as she stood on her tiptoes to get a better view from where she stood at the door.   
With still no sign of someone who could be Anya, Sana swallowed her pride and started walking through the paths in between the fighter jets, keeping her arms crossed over her chest as she turned her head, studying each face behind their scarves and goggles that she came across.   
Sana had given up by the time she reached the end of the hold, sighing and turning on her heel to walk back, thinking Organa had been mistaken, when she found herself standing directly across from a young woman, studying her.   
Golden eyes met green.   
“Anya?” Sana cautioned, the sound escaping her throat before she could stop it. Before she could blink, the girl had crossed the floor between them, wrapping her arms around her,   
“Sana!” _  
  
_

Anya was a force of bubbly uncontained energy, eyes shining as she ate across from Sana, “ _-so Madame Antoinette called me a lazy cheat in front of the class, and forced me up onto the chair of shame. So when I stood up, and she came over to sneer at me, I spat at her! Didn’t give her a chance to react, just hopped off the chair and legged it outta the schoolhouse. Seryozha and Katya let me hide out in their house for a while, before I made my way off that awful planet. Now I’m here.”_ she gestured to the makeshift canteen around them.   
“ _You’re a mechanic?”_ _  
_ _“And pilot too!”_ she beamed proudly, the only Lithé child with perfect teeth, “ _Started picking up skills from Abba when I was young, and used to ditch school to work at the Orlé garage. The pilots say I’m one of the best human mechanics around.”_ _  
_ _“That’s amazing,”_ Sana smiled, sadness tweaking her heart, the chubby cheeked baby she had always pictured long gone, Anya had grown up. She cleared her throat, and took a mouthful of rations, _“What made you join the Rebellion?”_ _  
_ _“Seriously? You practically raised me as a baby by all accounts, and then had to flee because of the Empire. Of course I was gonna find a way to fight back against them.”_ _  
_ _“I didn’t practically raise you.”_ _  
_ _“Yeah you did, Abba and Seryozha always say so.”_ _  
_ _“Even so, you shouldn’t be putting yourself at risk like this.”_ _  
_ _“It’s not just that, but…”_ Anya stared at her ration pack, stabbing the measly meal with her fork, _“I just wanted to do something, I couldn’t stand wasting away in our little village forever.”_ _  
_ Sana bit the inside of her lip, “ _I understand. But please… be careful Anya.”_ _  
_ _“Of course!”_ She scooped up another mouthful, hiding her chewing behind her hand as she asked, _“Have you been given your sleeping quarters yet?”_ _  
_ _“No-”_ _  
_ _“Great, I should ask for us to be put together, maybe you can catch me up on your life the-”_ _  
_ _“I don’t want to intrude, don’t you have any friends or-”_ _  
_ _“Nope. I want to room with you, at least for a little while, gives me an excuse to speak my native tongue again.”_ _  
_ Before Sana could argue, Anya was up and away, back to work and leaving Sana tired, and with more questions than she had started with. 

The first few nights in Hoth were excruciating. The sleeping units were flimsy, with the insulations only half working, so when Anya had asked to share a bed, Sana didn’t turn her away. Under their blankets, the two huddled together, Anya settling her head over Sana’s sternum to listen to her heartbeat, _“Will you sing me a lullaby?”_ _  
_ With Anya’s head of blonde curls tucked under her chin, Sana held her close with one arm and gently threaded her fingers through her hair with the other,   
“ _Underneath the Jaya tree,_ _  
_ _Let me gift sweet fruits for you,_ _  
_ _Bring them home to bring smiles,_ _  
_ _Wave goodbye as the moon dances,_ _  
_ _Smile through mine lonely tears,_ _  
_ _Knowing one day you’ll grow and leave me here,_

 _‘But rejoice, so is life!’ the great power cries,  
_ _So underneath the Jaya tree  
_ _I pick sweet fruits for you._ _  
_ _In hopes you grow big and strong, and spread your roots,_ _  
_ _Plant your own sweet fruits,_ _  
_ _My sweet little Jaya tree.”_

Closing her eyes, inhaling the soft sweet smell of her baby sister with the lullaby, an aching nostalgia ate into Sana’s heart. Yet something else ate at her, something unsettling and wrong.   
_“Did you sing that to me when I was a baby?”_ Anya whispered in the dark.   
“ _Yeah, long ago, back when you were cute.”_ _  
_ _“Bully.”_ Anya pinched her arm. A sleepy silence descended after they giggled, “ _It sounds weird, but I remember you singing it to me.”_ _  
_ _“Probably Ima you’re remembering.”_ _  
_ _“No. Ima never sang to me.”_ Anya shivered and nuzzled into Sana, “ _She never sang to any of us.”_

* * *

 _Sana was standing at the lake back home. The clear green water reflecting her face back to her, as she waded further. Beneath her she could feel the silt and sand slide under her feet, as she went deeper and deeper. The ground became more unsteady, and her breathing became louder as her neck was submerged._ _  
_ _“Let the water cleanse you, give yourself fully to it.” a familiar voice called._ _  
_ _With one more step, the ground beneath her gave way, and she was fully submerged, surrounded in ice cold. Sana flailed and scrambled, trying to get her head above water as she gulped down the salt and ice of the lake. Above her, the warbled figure of her mother stood, praying, as Sana felt the hands of death wrap around her._

She was falling. Her body and head spinning, as she woke up, still laying in her bed. Anya snored softly curled up beside her. Sana ran her hands through her hair, and slipped out of bed, body screaming from the sharp sting of cold as she pulled her flight suit on over her thermals, and slipped on her boots and gloves. With her arms folded over her chest, and her hands rubbing up and down her arms, Sana slipped out into the dark passage.   
Alone with her thoughts, she wandered through, careful to stay on the mats to prevent herself from slipping. Despite that, her footing would occasionally slide, and she would have to reach out to find some balance against the wall.   
Dark, cold, and unsure, Sana fought the urge to cry, banging her head against the snow wall.   
She hated it here.   
And she hated Solo for dragging her away from her home, from Boba…   
But Anya…   
The bubbling guilt rose up in her chest, tightening and squeezing her throat until she couldn’t breath. Sana crouched down, wrapping her arms around her legs and burying her face into her legs.   
It was too much. 

The echo of large footsteps shook the hall.   
Sana pulled herself up, eyes wide with panic in the dark as she tried to see who was approaching.   
The roar reverberated through her ears. A large, white beast rounded the corner, it’s frame big and towering, and its eyes glowed in the dark. Her patient’s scars dawned on her.   
Sana scrambled back, feeling the floor beneath her shake as the creature stomped towards her, growling and roaring.   
She couldn’t outrun it.   
Cursing, Sana kept running, boots slipping and sliding over the iced over paths as she pulled off her gloves.   
She was too tired, the likelihood of her being able to achieve what she was about to do was slim, but desperate times called for even more desperate measures. It was do or die.   
She spun around, palms facing out towards the beast, incanting,   
_‘Hear me oh great power,_ _  
_ _Calm thy warrior, thy creature, thy child,_ _  
_ _Hear me the child of Lahir’_ _  
_ _Call thy child still.’_

The beast slowed, and Sana kept incanting over and over, pushing her shaking legs to step forward to encourage the beast back. Glowing eyes turned softer, glazing over as heavy stumbling steps were taken back. Sana’s hands stung and shook, and her upper lip felt warm from the blood that was flowing from her nose, but she kept going pushing the beast further back and back.   
She was vaguely aware of people coming into the hallways, and their movements, but she kept focused on keeping eye contact with the beast and pushing it back. Someone called her name, she ignored it, pushing the beast back behind blast doors that were promptly shut.   
Her knees stung with pain as she fell, her head light and spinning, as she felt someone’s arms around her. A familiar scent hit her nose- Anya. She couldn’t hear anything past the buzzing in her ears, only managing to keep her eyes open enough to see Anya slip gloves over her hands, her shushing tones finally breaching past the buzz,   
“ _You’re okay, you’re okay,”_   
Sana nodded, and was vaguely aware of someone helping her up. Anya slung her arm over her shoulder, and helped her back to her room. Leaning against her, it dawned on Sana that her little sister was taller than her.   
She nearly laughed, nearly cried, exhaustion hitting her like a blaster shot. 

* * *

It was over a week before Boba returned to Tatooine.   
Astrid waited in the corners while he settled the payment, quickly approaching him, and slinking over his shoulder as he turned to leave, whispering urgently, “Back corridor. Now. _”_ _  
_Throwing her signature flirtatious wink, she slunk away, and waited for him to hesitantly follow her, as she tapped her foot,  
“What do you want, Ast-”  
“Han Solo kidnapped Sana.”  
The silence that fell between the odd pair was tense, thick enough to cut through.  
Before she could blink, he had grabbed her shoulders, roughly shoving her up against the wall,  
“When?”  
Despite herself, Astrid’s blood grew cold from his tone, his terrifying reputation suddenly very apparent, as she stammered, “9 rotations previously.”  
“Just Solo?”  
She shook her head, “Him and Chewbacca.”  
“Did they say anything that could be a clue on where they could be taking her?”  
Astrid shook her head again, seeing her own scared, wide eyed expression reflected back to her. He shook her roughly, “Think back, anything?”  
She tried to worm out of his grasp, his grip feeling like it was going to crush her, “No! There’s nothing else. They just burst into her house, and grabbed her, dragging her to the shuttle.”  
“What kind?”  
“I don’t know, Imperial maybe?”  
“Astrid,” his head bent down terrifyingly lower, “What kind of shuttle?”  
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember, “I don’t know! It was… it was white! Had three wings-”  
“Flat hull?”  
She nodded, he released the iron grip on her shoulders. Astrid watched as he stepped back, completely silent in thought, as her heart hammered against her chest, “You’ll find her.”  
He didn’t reply to her, just turned on his heel and strode out. Rubbing her arms to try and banish his painful hold, Astrid shivered, as his silhouette faded off into the distance,   
“You’ll find her like your life depends on it, Fett.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Justice for the Wampas man, they got kicked out of their home!  
> Also, writing your own lullabies are oddly difficult? I had several open for reference and tbh I'm kinda happy with the final product, it's predecessor was more of a love song, but I didn't like that.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading! And thank you all for your support!!!


	22. All the quiet nights you bare.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sana adjusts to life on Hoth, and re-evaluates her priorities.   
> Boba bumps into the unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy 😊

Echo base had yet another delay in the medical unit shipment, and Sana found her abilities being stretched to the limit on the daily, with constant streams of patients with varying injuries ranging from small cuts and burns, to developed hypothermia.    
Each night, Sana ended the day by collapsing face down on her bunk, her aching hands and head burning but feeling that her resilience to the exhaustion was growing. And each night, she curled up to her pillow and blanket, pretending the own rush of blood in her ears was his heartbeat, and the warmth around her was his arms.    
She missed him. 

Roughly two weeks after her arrival, Han Solo, and another guy arrived at her makeshift clinic, both boasting cuts and bruises from their previous mission of fixing Han’s ship. Sadly for her, Solo had the more extreme injuries.    
Sana guided him to sit on the bunk, and started healing while him and the other guy, who he called Luke, conversed idly about the ship’s repair.    
“Hey, look no hard feelings right, witch?” Han turned to look at her, muttering while Luke chatted to a pilot that rushed in to chat to him.    
“You’ve gotten me on the Empire’s and Jabba’s hit list, you absolute bastard.” she hissed, moving on to help rotate his disjointed shoulder back into place.    
“Hey, the way these guys are going, you might not have to worry about one of those for that much longer. And besides, you got a lovely family reunion outta it.”   
“You tore me from my home! From my-”   
“From your what?”   
“Nothing. The point is, you’re a bastard and I’ll never forgive you.”   
“Look, lady, if I was looking for forgiveness from everyone I’ve crossed, trust me you’d be the lowest on the list.” He rolled his shoulders a few times, seeming pleased with the results, and hopped off the bed, disappearing out the door.    
“Bastard!” Sana called out after him.    
“I know!”

Sana huffed, crossing the room to disinfect her hands. 

“Don’t let Han get to ya, he’s a big softie deep down.” Luke said, sitting on the other bunk.    
“You’re…” she massaged her temples as she tried to recall his name, “Luke Skywalker right?”   
“Yup, Tatooine native just like yourself.”   
She squinted, mind a little foggy from her final patients of the day, he looked oddly familiar, something she couldn’t quite pinpoint, “Tatooine native… we haven’t slept together right?”   
“No!” he said incredulously, and Sana sighed, “Thank great power, I was concerned you looked familiar.” 

He shifted a little while she attended to the cut on his arm, eager to move on from the subject, “You and Anya talk about a great power a lot, is it like the force?”   
Sana shrugged, healing over the wound in nearly record time, “For us, the great power flows through all living things, in blood, in sap, in water, sometimes dust and air… It doesn’t exist in inorganic materials, or areas devoid of life like space. Does that sound like the force to you?”   
He frowned, flexing and turning his healed arm, “Not quite.”   
“Then perhaps our clans are not too closely related. Either way, we must support each other’s survival.” Sana wiped away the dried blood from his arm, and Luke smiled, patting her shoulder, “Thanks doc.”   
“Cassandra,” she waved her hand, discarding the cloth into the disinfectant bath, “Let me know whenever you get injured again, okay?”   
“Will do!” he waved as he walked out of the room.    
Disinfecting and washing her hands, Sana placed her cool fingers over her eyes, inhaling deeply. Her brief interval of loneliness sinking back in.    
She wanted to be back in his arms again so badly that it hurt.

  
  


Lying in bed that night and slowly drifting off from the conscious world, Sana was disrupted when Anya slid in under the covers with her, holding her forehead against Sana’s.    
_ “Can I ask you for some advice?” _ _   
_ Despite her exhaustion, she mustered a small smile,  _ “Sure thing.” _ _   
_ _ “There’s someone…” _ _   
_ _ “Oh?”  _ Sana wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, Anya giggled a little, yawning before she continued,  _ “We’ve made out a few times but, they want to go further and I’m not sure if I want to.” _ _   
_ _ “Do you like him?” _ _   
_ _ “Her.” _ _   
_ _ “Oh? _ _   
_ _ “Yeah.” _ _   
_ _ “Then tell her to play with herself and wait until you’re ready.” _ _   
_ _ “But-” _ _   
_ _ “But nothing,”  _ Sana sighed, rolling onto her back, “ _ people can be a depraved lot when it comes to sex, like to guilt trip you into giving in before you’re ready.” _ _   
_ _ “You’ve got a lot of experience with sex then?” _ _   
_ _ “You calling me a whore?” _ _   
_ _ “Not quite.”  _ Anya chuckled, shoulders shaking beside Sana,  _ “Any advice for whenever I am ready?” _ _   
_ _ “Make sure you actually like the person, don’t take it too seriously, relax your body, and communicate what you like or don’t like. Very few are attentive enough to pick up what you enjoy just by your reactions. Also always use a barrier.”  _ _   
_ _ “If I ask you how many people you’ve slept with, would you answer honestly?” _ _   
_ _ “Maybe, as long as it never reaches anyone else's ears.”  _ Sana grumbled, pulling the covers closer around them.  _   
_ _ “So?” _ _   
_ _ “Upward of 7? Probably 9 or 10.” _ _   
_ Anya raised her eyebrows,  _ “Did you enjoy them?” _ _   
_ _ “Great power no, it was a means to an end during a rough time. Only one was worth it.” _ _   
_ _ “Did you stay with him?” _ _   
_ _ “Yeah… For a while…”  _ Sana stared at the ceiling.  _   
_ _ “What was he like- not in a sex way.”  _ Anya rested her chin on her shoulder, eager to pry out any information.  _   
_ _ “Handsome, and attentive.” _ _   
_ _ “That’s all you're gonna tell me?” _ _   
_ _ “What else do you want to know?” _ _   
_ _ “Where’d you meet? What did he look like? His name? That kinda thing.”  _ _   
_ _ “We met while I was working. He has brown eyes, and dark hair, and his skin is always so warm… “  _ Sana mused, “ _ He’s got some scars, one by his collarbone here,”  _ she tapped at her left collarbone,  _ “I always used to try and kiss it better, though he never said it, the skin would tug uncomfortably for him sometimes. And he had another one across the bridge of his nose-” _ _   
_ _ “What did this guy do for a living to have so many scars?”  _ Anya scoffed.  _   
_ _ “He never really talked about it.”  _ Sana eventually lied, fearing the repercussions of her relationship with Boba on Anya. The last thing she needed was Anya thinking she was a traitor, to sleep with, and love, a man who hunted after the Rebels.  _ “And I never really asked. He was one of the few on that planet who saw me as more than just the Jundland wastes witch. I just liked feeling human with him.” _ _   
_ _ “Why’d you separate?”  _ the whispers in the dark grew softer.  _   
_ _ “Things happen.”  _ Sana pulled her sister closer, threading her hands through her hair, “ _ Now go to sleep, deary, long days are ahead.” _

Anya quickly drifted into a deep sleep beside her, her small snores filling Sana’s ears. But Sana couldn’t fall asleep despite her creeping exhaustion. Cradling Anya, and shushing her to sleep most nights had resurfaced long lost memories of lying in her old bedroom as a child, Anya’s wooden crib beside her own. Sana had rocked her to sleep, singing lullabies each night, woke up when her small sharp cries filled the room to feed and change her.    
Why had she looked after Anya like she was her own child when she was just a child herself?   
Her memories were foggy and dark, it was stumbling around in a room with no light, unsure where to start. Sana screwed her eyes shut, and tried to pluck around, searching for anything in the depths of her mind, and drew up nothing.    
She felt like she was going insane.    
Anya rolled over to her other side and sighed in her sleep, snores ensuing. Sana wrapped her arm around her waist, and rested her chin on top of her head. New worries and fears filling her mind.    
What was she going to do?   
Even if she could go back to Boba, would she?   
Anya’s presence in her life changed things, drastically. Sana had no loyalty in this war, she just wanted to survive, but Anya was young and committed to the rebellion. And deep down, Sana knew she had to be there alongside her, to take care of her and protect her, like she always had before she had left her. She owed Anya, and knew she couldn’t leave her again.    
And it hurt. It hurt because she did love Boba, more than any other man she had been with, and she wanted to be with him in an ideal universe where none of this shit mattered. Sleeping cold, and alone on Hoth, she had occupied her heart with useless exercises of what she would say to him when they reunited, how she would fully give herself to him, what they would name their small children when the time was right. Happy, warm, domestic images of them together again, to keep her heart afloat in the tumultuous sea.    
Such happy images carried such pain.    
Squeezing her eyes shut to stop the welling tears, Sana resigned herself to her decision.    
In the dark, holding the surrogate baby she had raised in her arms, she let him go. 

The red rope around her heart finally broke her into two.

* * *

Sana’s house had been ransacked.    
Boba stood just inside the front door. The workshop was covered in broken glass, jars of preserved plants and salves emptied, or stolen. The patient beds were gone, the kitchen gutted, her small greenhouse covered in dirt. He crept up the stairs, finding her room equally torn apart, all items of value disappeared. Leaves of paper spread over the floor, he recognised the Lahir’ script, and diagrams of plants Sana would refer to him when she was in search of certain material. Boba bent down, and picked up the scattered pages one by one, finding the broken book spine tucked in the corner. Through his helmet visor, he could see the snapped remains of her comb. Memories of her brushing through her hair in front of him, the curls straightening through the teeth before bouncing back up to her shoulders, filled his mind, how her fingers dexterously intertwined and plaited the strands of hair each morning. The soft scent of her head beneath his chin, as his fingers combed through the knotted strands.    
Holding the splintered wooden handle, he saw how his hand seemed to shake.    
He was going to bring the greatest pain down on Solo for taking her away from him. 

  
Searching further around the mess, he found a few of her old clothes, and her other journal, tucking them under his arm as he descended the stairs. 

A woman stood in the open doorway.    
Tall, and willowy, her posture was stiff as she regarded him through her wrappings. He raised his blaster, and she removed her goggles and scarf, before pulling down her hood. 

Aged, yet still too similar to Sana for his comfort, the green eyes colder than what he was used to seemed to stare straight through his armour.    
Seraphine.    
“You are Boba Fett.” her voice was hoarse and cracked, accent even thicker than Sana’s and Seryozha combined.    
He stayed silent, nodding once, and her lips spread into a sneer, “A cursed man to partner with my cursed child.”   
“Why have you come?”   
She shrugged, meandering through the upturned bed frames and broken wood panels, poking at them with her boot, “I wish for a memento mori.”   
“You think she is dead?”   
“If not now, then soon. Both of them will be.”   
“Them?”   
“My other daughter, you haven’t met her.” she poked at the rotten, withered flowers in the fireplace.    
“You don’t appear remorseful.” he remarked, cautious of the old woman.    
She cackled insincerely, “Very rich of a killer for hire to critique on. What know you the of pain of losing a child?”   
He didn’t answer, glaring at her through his visor, she continued, “You have come to collect her things. There’s no point, she will not go with you even if you find her.”   
“I don’t care for your opinion.”   
Seraphine ignored him, moving across the room, and poking at his cuirass with her finger, “Cassandra will not depart from her sister, her little baby, so cowardly protective of her even when she was a child. Perhaps you can lead a less cursed life yet if you give up your search now.”   
“Why do you hate your daughter?”   
“My hate is justified. I wanted my curse to die with me. Yet Chased wanted more children, kept giving me cursed offspring, Cassandra the most of all, she stuck no matter how hard I tried to be rid of her.” she spat, the spittle landing on the edge of his visor, “Marriage and faith bound me to them all.” 

“So you tried to drown her.”   
She snorted, “Said it was a cleansing ritual. Nobody questioned it. But not dear old Celesthine. No, she cursed me, confining my soul to this universe forever as punishment, and altered Cassandra’s memories, make her think she was loved like any other child in hopes she’ll carry this curse onto the next generation.”   
He pushed Seraphine aside, disgusted and angry. She called out after him, “You are a cursed man, Boba Fett. And you will never find happiness through my daughter.”   
Boba ignored her, leaving the broken home behind him as her gaze burned into his back.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It dawned on me that I might be finished this weekend. Which is super crazy! I started this as a hobby to distract myself from lockdown, and also just to unwind and practice my writing abilities. Though I know it's no literary masterpiece, I'm still super proud of myself for not giving up halfway through.   
> Thank you so much for reading and supporting this!   
> Stay tuned for the last two-three chapters.   
> xxxx


	23. I can't go home, for the road is a snake of mist in the shadow of a rebel's fist.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle of Hoth arrives on our lovers, and a glimpse of hope that they may finally reunite becomes increasingly ruined with reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Widow's Peak by Bat for Lashes for the title of this chapter.   
> That whole album concept is the inspiration.

Echo station buzzed with the news that Luke and Han were still alive after a night out in the cold.    
Sana had rushed out to the cargo bay, accompanied by the irritating med droid, to attend to the frozen pair.    
“Kept him wrapped up in the taun-taun, so you’ll have to excuse the smell.” Han’s teeth chattered, and he panted, skin waxy and pale. Sana nodded, resting her hands over Luke’s unconscious frozen face, trying to draw the cold out of his blood, “Well it's likely the only thing that kept him alive. You did well. Get yourself ahead to the med-bay where we can patch you up.”

“ **Patient appears to have severe hypothermia.** ”   
“What made you think that?” Sana muttered, before waving at two rebels, “Get him to the med bay- now. Droid, ensure Skywalker stays stabilized on the way there, while I go ahead and make preparations for reheating and bacta treatment.”    
“ **Yes mistress.** ” 

Sana ran ahead, her balance somewhat used to slip of the frozen ground, she scrambled into the med-bay, now with a more stable infrastructure, and pulled out the reheating backs, and heat retention blankets, setting up the patient bunks for both men. Moments later, the med-droid waddled through, and helped the rebels direct Luke to one bed, while Sana helped Han into the other.    
“ **Mistress, will I see to Skywalker’s lacerations?”** **  
** “No, get him defrosting first, the increased blood flow will go a long way in helping those along. Hook up enough painkiller for a bantha, I’ll see to them in a minute to reset the bones on his face.”   
Han shivered as the heat returned to his cold body, “Look at you Cassandra, commanding the place about.”   
“I am bound by creed to do my job, and do it well Solo, don’t go casting aspersions.”   
“What?”   
“Nevermind.” she shook her head, setting up the monitoring unit on his hand, “Rest. I’ll see to Luke.”   
Waving away the rebels, Sana settled beside the droid, and took Luke’s face in her hands again, studying the wampa claw marks, “Status on Skywalker?”   
**“Skywalker’s core heat has increased to 29 degrees Celsius- 84.2 degrees Fahrenheit. Heart rate increased to 56 beats per minute. Will I prepare the bacta tank mistress?”**   
“Yes, go get it set up, I’ll start up on these lacerations.” Sana’s hands began to buzz as she started pulling the fractured bones back into place, incanting to weave and knit back together. Leia Organa ran in, “Are they alright?”   
“Han has mild hypothermia, he’s just defrosting over to your left. Luke has moved from severe to moderate, and we’re setting up the bacta tank now.”   
“Thank you, Cassandra.” Leia managed to say as she regained her composure, striding over to Han and placing a hand over his forehead. They mumbled to each other as Sana continued healing Luke. Beneath her he kept mumbling in his sleep,    
“Dagobah system...Yoda...Ben…”   
Sana patted his hair a little, committing the words to memory for whenever he woke up. She looked up to the monitor display, his heart rate had increased up to 60 beats per minute, core temperature to 31 Celsius. Beneath her buzzing hand, a bone snapped back into place, with a loud ‘crack’, and she could feel that beneath the swelling, everything was back in order. Taking a moment to flex and stretch out her hands and fingers, Sana returned to incanting, feeling the tissue start to weave back together.    
“ **Mistress, Skywalker’s bacta tank is ready.** ”   
She nodded, and turned her head to the med-droid, “Help me hook him up.”

It was another day before Luke was out of consciousness, the night in bacta had finished the job of healing him, leaving him only with slight swelling and scarring. Sana sat on the edge of his bunk, pricking his thumb and placing the pad into the centre of her ‘eye of life’ rune,    
“What’s that for?”   
“We use it to check mostly for infections,” Sana explained, “but also as an examination of general health.”   
She healed his thumb, and wiped away the blood, smiling, “Congratulations, you’re all clear. I’ll leave you in care of the med-droid for now, but give a shout if you need anything.”    
“Thank you Cassandra, could you send Leia in?”   
“Of course.” Sana hopped off his bed and walked out into the halls, finding Leia on her way down to wear Luke was resting, “I just gave him a quick examination, he’s all clear but still needs further rest.”   
“Thank you, Cassandra.” she crossed her arms, trying to protect herself from the cold, “Did Antayla tell you how the Falcon’s coming along?”   
“According to her, Chewie said the Falcon should be up and running before high sun today.”   
Leia bit her lip, nodding, and rubbing her arms, “Right… thank you.”   
Reaching out to hold her shoulder, Sana offered her warmest smile, “Luke’s asking after you. It’ll do him good to have a chat with you, and the same goes for you. Take some time to relax.”   
“I will, thank you.” the smile was returned, but something close to sadness lingered in her eyes. 

Sana didn’t have to use her abilities to know she was being torn apart by Solo’s departure. She offered another quick smile, before leaving to return to the main med-bay, her own frustration rising as Han proved yet again to be a good for nothing bastard. 

What had started off as a chaotically good day, quickly became a chaotically bad.    
Alarms blared painfully loud as Echo base fell into evacuation protocol. Anya had managed to find her through the chaos, giving her a quick hug before she departed to accompany the medical frigate, “ _ Stay safe, okay Sana? _ ”   
“ _ You too! Meet you at the rendezvous. And be careful! _ ”   
Anya waved back at her as she ran towards her ship, securing her flight helmet with one hand as she climbed on. Sana caught a tall brunette climb up the ladder and plant a kiss on Anya’s cheek before sliding down and running to her own ship.   
She made a mental note to introduce herself to her later. 

Sana returned to the main control room, sticking with the final evacuation group so she could attend to any of the injured in the upcoming battle. Echo base shook and shuddered with the fire, mounds of snow dropping in onto them. Sana moved through the frenzied chaos, healing cuts and fractures in record times that left her ears ringing. Leia grabbed her arm to steady them both as a shell hit right above the control room,    
“Second last group has evacuated!”   
“Good, ge-”   
Han voice interrupted as he rushed in, and Sana’s brain barely computed being dragged along with Leia behind him through the winding and collapsing hallways past her foggy brain.    
They fell at one point, her tailbone painfully colliding with the ground, and rushed up the Falcon’s ramps with the annoying protocol droid tottering behind them.    
Slumping into the seats around the holo-chess board, Sana secured herself into the strap, and found her eyes growing heavy, but the shouting and growing nausea in her stomach wouldn’t let her drift into sleep despite her exhaustion.    
Sana leaned her head forward to rest on the table, wrapping her arms around her head as she tried to stay calm, tried to rest.    
She was aware of someone running in, and she lifted up her head, the shouting and panic seeping into her,   
Han was removing a grate and had started climbing in, “Gods, Cassandra can you help out?”

She got up and stumbled towards the cockpit, a blast at the ship sent her flying forward, the side of her face smashing into the ground, and she cried out. Pain erupted through her jaw as she stumbled back to her feet, and clung onto the wall to get to the cockpit.    
She managed to sit behind Leia, rubbing her aching jaw, “What’s happening?”   
“Hyperdrive’s not working.” she informed, Sana just about grasped what she had said over the panicked blathering of C-3PO next to her, as Leia and Chewie steered the Falcon out of the way of oncoming fire, “And we’re stuck within the enemies fleet.”

Sore, and tired, and not in a good way like her times on Tatooine, Sana wished she had just died on Hoth. 

It was going to be a long trip.

* * *

The Millennium Falcon landed with a shudder on the Bespin platform.    
Underneath his helmet, Boba Fett humorlessly huffed. It was almost too easy.    
He watched from his perch on the rooftop, hands resting on his gun as his helmet display zoomed in on the departing passengers of the Falcon.    
Solo, as expected, the Wookie Chewbacca, also expected and a nice bonus. Vader had promised him to Lando, but Boba knew you always had to expect that Vader never kept his promises.   
“Perfect, my two main culprits have arrived.” he muttered to himself.    
They were followed by Leia Organa of the Rebel Alliance, and an obnoxiously golden protocol droid, he could probably scrap it, “Oh I bet you all know where I can find my cyar’ika. And, make me stinking rich on top of that.”

He got up to leave, move to his next observation post when the movement of another person caught his eye.    
His stomach dropped as the final passenger walked off the ramp.    
Her hair was cropped around her jaw now, and she looked odd out of her Tatooine layers, fitted into a brown flight-suit that only emphasized that she had gotten thinner since he had last seen her. Dark circles cupped her green eyes, and her cheeks appeared hollow, a blooming bruise settled on her jaw.    
Sana.    
He rushed to his next perch. This was quickly turning into the most rewarding job he’d ever taken. 

Boba waited behind a closed door as Lando guided the group through the halls of the Cloud City. They were approaching slower than his anticipation could bear, he fought the urge to tap his foot with impatience as Lando finally walked past, then Han, then Leia, then Chewie. His window was opening. C-3PO waddled past, and then-

The door slid open, and Boba snatched out his hand, grabbing and pulling her arm towards him, so she stumbled into the room with him, securing the lock before holding her at arms length away from him. She seemed dazed, staring up at him like she wasn’t quite sure he existed,    
“Sana?”   
Everything seemed to catch up on her, and she flung herself into him, standing on her tiptoes as she nuzzled into the softer fabric of the flight suit on his neck. It started to grow damp from her tears, as she began to quietly weep, saying his name over and over again in an incredibly small voice.    
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her impossibly close to his body, and just held her. 

A month of tension he hadn’t realised was there left his body, as he finally held her in his arms once again.    
She was here with him. She was safe.    
She pulled back, tear tracks running down her face as she held his helmet between her hands. He moved his forehead down to bump against hers,    
“Cyar’ika, it's okay,” he shushed, gently wiping away the tears with his gloved hands, “I’ve got you, you’re okay.”    
Sana leaned her face into his hands, wincing when she inadvertently placed pressure on the tender bruise, and Boba’s thumb ghosted over the area, “You’re getting into fistfights now, cyar’ika?”   
She shook her head, smiling up at him, “Some real bad steering on the ship sent me to the floor.”    
“Bastards will pay for it, I promise.” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers again.    
Something close to fear flashed through her eyes, “You’re here for the bounty on Solo?”   
“Yes, I’ll take you back to the ship and the-”   
“Boba,” her voice wobbled, barely above a whisper, “I can’t go with you.”   
“What do you mean? Of course you can. Cyar’ika, let’s go home.”   
“I can’t.” she shook her head, “I want to but I can’t.”   
“Why?”   
“I-” her throat bobbed as she swallowed, hot fresh tears brimming her red eyes again, “I have to stay with the Rebel Alliance.”   
He held her shoulders, rubbing small circles into them, “Listen to me, if you stay here, you will be killed. I...” he took a deep breath to steady himself, “I can’t let that happen to you, Sana.”    
“I can’t leave Anya, Boba. I abandoned her once, I can’t do that again, please understand I have to stay here, no matter how strongly I feel about you.”   
“Sana, you will die if you stay here. You need to come with me, or you will be abandoning Anya for life.”   
“Boba, please.”   
He closed his eyes to steady himself, bracing himself for what he had to do, “I’m so sorry, Sana.”    
She frowned, and he spun her around, placing one hand over her mouth and nose, gently applying pressure and holding her body still against his own as she tried to flail and worm out of his grasp. Boba pressed his chin onto the crown of her head, muttering ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again as she slowly became deadweight in his arms.    
He grunted as he hauled her over his shoulder, storming through to the empty corridors to Slave-1. Once up the ramp, he climbed up the ladder to the small sleeping quarters he kept on the ship, and lay Sana down on the small bunk, removing her boots, and pulling the blanket over her. Taking a moment to tuck her in, he brushed a stray strand of hair off her face, and reached for the small medkit he kept, placing a bacta patch over the darkening bruise before leaning his head in for one last kedable kiss.    
“Forgive me, I can’t lose you again, cyar’ika.”   
Boba climbed down the ladder, and disembarked Slave-1, returning to the job at hand, “Slave-1, secure central hull, and lock sleeping quarters.”   
“ **Sleeping quarters; locked, and central hull; secured, Boba Fett.** _ ”  _   
  


The job was all too easy.    
Solo and company had fallen right into their trap.    
The look on his face had been priceless when he saw Vader. And a sadistic part of him had nearly relished in the sounds of his tortured screams as he waited with Lando in the red hallway. The Baron studied him, eyes flickering with each scream from Solo, “You know anything about what happened to the Lahirean healer?”   
“She is secured.” Boba responded, Lando opened his mouth to speak again when Vader exited, giving new instructions.    
“He’s no good to me dead.” he spat at the Imperial Lord. He was begrudgingly assured of compensation, but it did nothing to settle the annoyance rising in him. He hated working with people who couldn’t keep their word. His own annoyed realisation fuelled as he watched Vader alter his agreement with Lando, yet again. A man not to be trusted.    
Silently, he vowed never to work alongside Vader again. 

The time drew closer for Solo to be encased in carbonite, and slowly Boba warmed up to the idea. It would mean he wouldn’t have to put up with Solo’s constant and annoying chattering, he wouldn’t be able to escape or cause trouble, Boba would save expenses by not having to provide food for him, and if all was successful, he was still technically be delivering Solo alive, but also as a timeless work of art.    
And it would probably freak Sana out less if she didn’t have to hear him. He could keep Solo out of sight in the hold as he would finally, properly reunite with her.    
Approaching the jail cell, Boba decided that after he collected this bounty, he would take time to be with her again, to help her settle someplace new, someplace safe. The Empire didn’t know he had her, and she had no chain code, so Jabba couldn’t try and track her down if he wanted to.    
The month of searching had been hard, he had barely slept, barely ate. His mind constantly in turmoil wondering if she was safe, something akin to terror rising within him at the thought of her being in pain, or in danger, or even worse, dead.    
But he didn’t dwell on that anymore, with her safely asleep on Slave-1, everything was beginning to look bright and well again. 

He had kept the promise he had made to himself. 

The prison door slid open, and Solo stood there, still pale and sweating from torture, but his signature cocky expression summoned upon his face, “What you getting out of this Fett huh? How much is Jabba paying ya?”   
“A handsome amount, Solo, but that’s more of a bonus.”   
“What do you mean? You can’t hate me that much, can you?”   
Boba chuckled, looking directly at Solo through the visor, “Oh I truly can. You brought down my wrath the minute you took Cassandra Lithé off of Tatooine.”   
Solo’s face drained of colour, the signature self-assuredness leaving him as his mouth fell open, “You-you and Cassandra?!”   
The look on his face was priceless, eyes wide with disbelief, fluttering fear in the realisation that he had royally fucked up, that he was too far gone to worm his way out of consequence.    
Boba felt his laugh grow, “And now, you’re finally going to pay the price for it, Solo.”    
The daunted expression on Solo’s face didn’t make up for the pain he had caused him.    
But with how well Boba’s day had been going, it was definitely a start. He roughly shoved the butt of his gun into his back,   
“Move it, we’ve got an appointment with Vader to keep.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For every action we take, there are consequences.   
> Also I didn't want to make this chapter horrendously long by adding in all the dialogue and events- we know what happens, and I feel like it would grow boring hella fast.   
> (And let's be honest, who the hell is 100% mentally present at times.)   
> Thanks for reading, and supporting! And stay tuned for the final chapters! (I think they'll be published within the next 48 hours)   
> Until then! 😚


	24. Know that you'll always fill this heart of mine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited.   
> TW// Vague depiction of sex.

Exhaustion seemed to have taken over her.    
She was dead to the world.    
Boba lingered on the edge of the doorframe, checking in on her yet again, just to double check that she was alive. Sana had slept through the ship being boarded by Bossk’s gang. He had locked the door, and re-routed the controls back to his vambrace, so she was never in danger of them.    
Still, her dead sleep worried him.    
He crept over, and crouched down, gently peeling off the bacta patch to show only a slight red mark on her jaw.    
Nothing she wasn’t used to.    
Boba allowed the back of his hand to linger on her cheek for a little while, feeling her cool skin through his gloves. Stroking his thumb over her cheek, he pulled the blankets closer back around her, before leaving again, securing the door shut behind him. 

Her mind was floating, wandering, shifting, through hot sands and gritted wind. It contrasted so sharply with her cold body, that it made her dizzy.    
Sana pulled her heavy eyes open for the umpteenth time, trying once again to banish the exhaustion that held her captive. Her body was numb, and heavy, and unmoving. She was trapped, unable to get her limbs to move.    
“Boba?” she called out weakly, trying to push her body up so she could at least sit. Her head pounded, and her throat was on fire, “Boba?”   
The door slid open, a blur of green beskar crossed the room, crouching to cradle her face, “You alright?”   
“You bastard.” she mumbled into his gloves, her own untamed hair and drawn, tired face was reflected back to her. 

It was directed towards the both of them, at him for dragging her away from Bespin, at her body for betraying her mind by leaning into his touch, eagerly eating up the warm attention she had craved in the cold. She desperately wanted to see his face, to kiss his lips, to run her hands through his hair, to feel his warm hands hold, and steady her.    
The warmth seeping through his gloves was enough to draw attention to her own coldness, and she shivered. Without saying a word, he systematically removed his armour, and climbed into the bed with her, pulling her body right up to his. 

Sana melted into him, desperate to cling onto his warmth forever.    
She was still shivering, and reluctantly peeled off her flight suit, tugging at his own to do the same, and removed her thermals, so they lay together in just their underwear.    
Boba didn’t hiss, or groan, or complain about her cold like he usually did, just pulled her closer, and Sana pulled his forehead to touch her own, feeling his warm breath heat up her face. 

They lay silently, wrapped up in the coarse blanket, soaking and basking in each other's presence.    
What had only been a month of separation had felt like years.    
The unwilling and sudden absence had made their final reunion messy and desperate. Lips crashed, teeth bumped and caught, tongues dragged and breaths were shared. Heat flooded back into Sana’s body, slowly with each touch, each caress as they embraced, pulling each other closer and closer. Boba felt the tingling of healing skin, knitting and weaving back together under her soft palms. 

Lips parted, and moved elsewhere, scars were kissed and licked, warm breath soothing pain that lingered. Teeth grazed across delicate skin, and sunk in, tongue soothing the flush of pain. Half closed eyelids fluttered to stay open, reacquainting and charting the paths of skin, how many creases lingered around eyes, taking in each freckle and beauty mark.    
Fingers dragged through hair, and traced down vertebrae, legs tangled and intertwined. Until it felt like they were one once again. 

It was equally painful and animalistic, as it was gentle and intimate. 

Sana didn’t register taking off her underwear, just Boba’s mouth on her chest, nipping and soothing the tender, unexposed skin. His nose brushed up against where he could feel her heartbeat pounding through her ribcage, familiar and comforting to him, easing the pain and tension that lingered in him. 

Heat and scent was intoxicating, they were drunk on being in each other’s arms again, wordlessly moving and exploring each other like they had craved for their time apart.    
She whimpered into his mouth when he finally pushed himself into her. There was no teasing this time, no sarcasm or plays for power, just desperate hunger to feel each other again.    
The burning stretch to accommodate him quickly subsided, and her body moved from memory, wrapping and pulsing around him, as he thrusted in and out in shallow strokes.    
Sana mouthed at his jaw and nose, in between her pants, moving up to kiss between the slight furrowed brows as her body burned and the built up pressure became increasingly unbearable as it reached boiling point.    
Then it felt like she burst into two.    
Shuddering, and sobbing into that juncture between his shoulder and neck, kissing his tanned skin past her own tears. It was all too much, and not enough at the same time.    
The feeling of him letting go in her, made her moan. The familiar heat, and weight settling low within her body as she stroked her hands through his hair, calming him with each gentle ‘shhhh’ she ushered against his ear. 

They lay joined, and intertwined for what felt like forever. Pressing silent kisses to any skin that was exposed to them.    
“I know you have to leave.” he mumbled into her neck, moving up to rub his nose against her ear, “I just couldn’t leave you in danger on Bespin.”   
“I know.” she whispered, turning her head, to rub her nose against his, “I know.”   
His hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her forehead to press against, eyes falling shut, “You mean more to me than you will ever know.”   
Sana smiled, pain twisting the broken pieces of her heart, as she whispered into him,

“I love you too.” 

* * *


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snapshots of Sana's life in the Rebellion approaching the fall of the Empire.

The parting gift rested against the centre of her chest, always covered by her clothes, and protected by her heart.    
It had been difficult to return to the Rebellion, she had days of vetting, and interrogating to go through before she was allowed to return to her duties as medic on the new base on 5251977.   
Even then, people were reluctant to talk around her. No one truly knew what had happened on Bespin, and she kept it that way. They didn’t deserve to know where her heart lay, claimed.   


* * *

  
Anya had welcomed her back with opened arms, treating her as she always did. And the sisters settled back into their old routines. Sana would wash and plait her sister’s hair once a week, sing lullabies whenever she wished, and taught her how to darn torn socks, while they bonded over life, and what had once been home. Or bend double laughing over the ludicrous life they had led on Hoth, or Anya’s retelling of her school ditching adventures. 

* * *

  
Each night, with her face facing up to the ceiling, Sana toyed with the necklace that rested on her chest each night, occasionally bringing it to her lips to plant a small kiss while saying a small prayer for his safety. To her, the small carved mythosaur, made from pieces of her broken comb always bound her to him. And she didn’t want it any other way.    
It grounded her, holding her the pieces of her heart and soul together.    
Anya had noticed this behaviour, but thankfully never commented on it, never questioned it. She would just give Sana’s elbow a quick passing squeeze to bring her back to reality, when Sana would anxiously pat over her clothes where the symbol lay. 

* * *

Sana was finally introduced to Anya’s girlfriend Naberri, a native from the Naboo upper classes, and breathtakingly beautiful, as well as charming. After the first dinner they had all shared together, Sana had noticed the small touches, the familiar softened eyes, and felt the love between them.    
Before bed that night, Sana had hugged her sister, planting a small kiss on the crown of her head, “You’ve chosen well, deary.”

* * *

Slowly, Sana regained the trust of the people around her, she was no longer the enigmatic escapee of Boba Fett, just the Lahirean healer she had always been. Chewie, Luke, Leia, and Lando, remained cautious of her, but no longer cold, or angry.    
Two years slowly trickled past, filled with work, and days and nights that stretched for weeks, and longing for someone she had let go of long ago. Sana found solace in the fact that he was alive, somewhere out there in the galaxy. With the whispered stories, real or imagined, of him speeding through hyperspace, or taking down adversary after adversary, she could live. Clinging onto the childish hope of one day being reunited, knowing it wasn’t out of the realms of possibility. 

* * *

She had been the first to see to the still recovering Han when the group arrived on 5251977. Beneath her hand, the flow of life seemed sluggish, and his body appeared to still be catching up with the two years passed in carbonite. Sana was holding her palms over his head, healing and weaving back together the remaining frozen nerves and neural pathways. Beneath her hands, he was wary of her, anxiously moving his eyes back and forth between her and Leia with a silent message.    
“Just spit it out Han.” she sighed, exasperated after minutes trying to interpret what he was saying.    
“Why the hell is she here?”   
“Cassandra’s a medic with us, Han, a valuable one too.”   
“So you’re perfectly fine with that sadistic fuck’s bedmate being a part of this alliance?”   
“What?” Leia crossed the room, and tugged at her arm, “What does he mean, Cassandra?”

“Go on, tell her,” Han egged on, “he told me everything, right before taking me off to the Carbonite chamber.”   
Sana dropped her hands off of his head, and turned slightly to Leia, “Boba Fett and I had a personal relationship for a time, I believe that’s what Captain Solo is referring to.”   
The look on her face was terrifying, “And you didn’t tell us this because?”   
“You never asked.”   
“How cou-”   
“We never disclosed the details of our jobs in our relationship. And I have Anya to take care of, he doesn’t know where I am, and I don’t know where he is. You have nothing to fear.” Sana assured, lifting her hands to return to her job at hand.    
The tension in the med-bay was palpable enough. And then Han Solo opened his mouth,    
“It’s not like she can tell him now anyway.”   
“What do you mean?” Sana dropped her hands.    
Her heart seized and contracted in his chest.    
_ Pleasenopleasenopleasenopleasenopleasenoplea- _ _  
_ “Why should I tell you?”

Sana grabbed his face, glaring down into his eyes. 

“What. Do. You. Mean?”   
Leia tapped her arm, answering for him with a reluctant sympathy, “On Tatooine… he was knocked into the Sarlacc Pit.”   
  


The remains of her heart and soul dropped to the hollow pit of her stomach. 

  
And she swore she died right then. 

* * *

The gritty wind of the Jundland wastes whipped around Sana's head as she journeyed through the sands. Used to it’s crumbling, unsteady nature, she moved and held her balance with practiced ease.    
She no longer hated how the sands of Tatooine stole away any sort of elegance or dexterity that she had possessed. No she hated the sands for sucking away life.    
Sana stood alone, feet sinking down as she held her hand over her chest under the darkening skies.    
Searching. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand that's a wrap!  
> Thank you all so much for your support and love you've given this story!  
> And I really hope you enjoyed reading it!
> 
> I will do another work for this story in the near future, there's more plot I gotta resolve, but it didn't feel natural extending the story further at this moment. Besides I'm gonna take a break to focus on essays and assignments for a while first. In the meantime, you might get the occasional unrelated Star Wars oneshot when I need to unwind.  
> I have lots of other stories planned, and characters drawn up so I hope you guys check in on any future projects I do!!!  
> Thank you all so much again, and I hope to see you all soon!  
> With wuv,  
> Author  
> xxxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Celesthine- cell-lest-thine (like thyme)  
> Lithé- Lee-th-ay (like Padmé)  
> Lahirean- La-here-in  
> Lahir'- La-er.


End file.
